The Lone Wolf of House Lannister
by Missjillyv1991
Summary: Begins towards the middle of season two. Lyra Stark is the Lone Wolf of House Stark; the only legitimate heir left behind by Brandon Stark with Princess Meria Martell. Lyra is the sole wolf among a family of Sand Snakes and Martells. Doran, rejecting Robb's marriage proposal to Lyra, envisions a more lasting future with Tywin Lannister. AU Jaime X Lyra
1. Chapter 1: When the Past Comes Knocking

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Game of Thrones or A Song of Fire and Ice. I don't own the characters, the books the titles, ect.**

 **Update: Thank you everyone for being so patient! Fortunately, it didn't take nearly as long as I thought it might! Here's the updated, reconstructed version.**

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 **Chapter 1: When the Past Comes Knocking**

It was midday by the time Lyra awoke to the hot, bright Dornish sun. Groaning at a bright ray shining directly into her face, thus making her skin hot, she pulled a pillow over her head as a shield against the offending light and its heat. Last night she had celebrated her nineteenth name day with her family. It was a quiet, reserved family affair; rather than the large celebration she had for her eighteenth name day, which included many of the nobility of Dorne. Still though, to this very day, Lyra felt embarrassed about the whole affair, but her family had insisted that her eighteenth name day be a grand affair.

 _It's the day you reach_ majority! _You_ must _have a celebration,_ was what her mother, Meria Martell, had argued when Lyra told her that she didn't want an affair of a celebration that day.

 _I'm not a Martell!_ Lyra had stubbornly grumbled back to her mother.

 _You may be a Stark in name, but you are_ still _half Martell. Besides, t'would be inappropriate_ not _to have a celebration for the future Lady Stark of Winterfell_ , Lyra's uncle, Prince Oberyn Martell, had argued to her response. After stubbornly arguing back and forth between her mother and uncle, Lyra realized that neither would budge on the issue. In the end, Lyra relented and her mother planned a rather grand affair for her day of majority. In fact, the even was so grand that even her betrothed, Robb Stark, traveled all the way down to Sunspear for the event; of course, he was accompanied by his mother, Aunt Cat, who is the current Lady Stark, Robb's sibling's, the lady-like Sansa, the ornery Arya, little Bran, and the Stark's ward, Theon Greyjoy.

Thankfully though, for her nineteenth name day, Lyra's Martell family allowed for a more reserved family affair; however, could one ever actually call _any_ Martell celebration a "reserved, family affair"? Of course not! _Everybody_ was drunk off of the finest wine in Dorne, even Prince Doran! The wine, of course, being compliments of Prince Doran himself whenever there was _any_ kind of celebrating in his household. Lyra's other uncle, however, the fiery passionate Prince Oberyn, was _always_ drunk at every celebration he has ever been to; unlike his older brother, Prince Doran, who rarely got drunk and always has a calm, collected demeanor. In fact, sometimes Prince Doran could be _so_ cool headed that Lyra even wondered if he was _actually_ a descendent of the Rhoynar. Of course, always drinking alongside Oberyn, his paramour, the exotic and equally passionate Ellaria Sand, was always drunk along with him. In addition, Oberyn's bastard daughters, Lyra's cousins, who were collectively known as the Sand Snakes, were typically drunk as well if they were old enough so stay up all night at feasts. There was also Princess Arianne, Lyra's buxom oldest cousin, and Prince Doran's heir, who drank a lot as well; unlike her younger brother, Prince Trystane, who tended to drink less, much like his father. Finally, there was Lyra's mother, Princess Meria, the 'little sister' of Doran and Oberyn, who had _insisted_ that her only child's name day _not_ go unnoticed _at least_ to her family; which all led to last night's fun! With all the drinking and laughing and stories shared, Lyra couldn't help but to actually enjoy her name day. Something she didn't do often.

For Lyra, having the family involved in any celebration was always a painful reminder that her father was never around; the Mad King saw to that before she was old enough to remember him. The most painful reminder these affairs brought these days, though, was the fact that Lyra was a _Stark_ and not a _Martell_. Granted, Lyra was proud to be a Stark, but at times, she also wished that she was a Martell like the rest of her family. Her father _was_ Brandon Stark, and his only legitimate heir, but Lyra had grown up in Sunspear and she knew the Dornish better than the Northmen. Needless to say, she had rather complicated feelings about her place in the world. Lyra was the sole Stark in a family of Martells; who, to their credit, always treated her as family and always made her feel like their home was also her home; a place to feel like she belonged. Still, though, no matter how much she was loved by her Martell family, it was a reminder that she was all but actually banished from what _should_ be her _true_ "Homeland": the North.

Lord Eddard Stark, Lyra's lord uncle whom she rarely saw, was a "Man of Honor", as they call them outside of Dorne, and he did not feel right about the fact that his older brother's only child, the child who _should_ be the true heir to Winterfell, would never receive her title; which is why she has been betrothed to her cousin, Robb Stark, Ned's oldest son and heir to Winterfell. Ever since Lyra was eleven and Robb was ten they were told that they would one day be wed, which is why her and her mother make a trip to the North once a year and stay with the Starks for a month, _without_ the other Martells. It always feels foreign and strange to Lyra every time they make these trips; she was so used to the familiarity and the natural inclusion of the Martells that her Stark family, the family that is supposed to be her main family, always felt more like friendly strangers with whom she spent a month with once a year. To their credit, the Stark children and Ned always did their best to make her feel welcome, which made her feel guilty because she knew that the North would never be her real home. However, Aunt Cat, Lady Stark, is cordial to Lyra, but she also keeps her at a distance, like Jon Snow, Ned's bastard. Lyra's mother always said that Aunt Cat treated her this way because she didn't understand the love her and Brandon had for each other, but Lyra knew better. When she was old enough to understand the relationship between Jon and Aunt Cat, and why Cat hated her kind, noble cousin so much, Lyra realized that Cat was a proud woman and Jon's presence wounded her pride, which is why she also could not be close with Lyra; like Jon, Lyra's existence wounded her pride because she was the constant reminder that Brandon broke his oath to marry her by marrying Lyra's mother on an impulse instead. Though Lyra supposed that she should feel lucky that she was not treated with open contempt like Jon, and that Cat actually _tried_ to be an aunt to her, but her pride always got in her way. Apparently, at least according to Robb, Aunt Cat's pride and inability to accept Jon's meer existence, as well as her pride and inability to be a proper aunt and future mother-in-law to Lyra, caused _quite_ some contention between Lord and Lady Stark. Lyra _tried_ to be understanding and to see these situations from her aunt's point of view, but it _still_ hurt Lyra that she was being punished for her father's broken oath, and Aunt Cat's open contempt and loathing of Jon absolutely made her blood boil to the point that she would sometimes excuse herself to avoid an outburst of anger towards her future mother-in-law.

The Houses Martell and Stark, of course, always enjoyed the political aspect of this marriage alliance; together, they had Westeros closed in from the North **and** the South (though Dorne was not "technically" **The** South). Even the children got to enjoy this alliance in various ways; for one, Sansa got to enjoy the alliance when the small Martell party brought their annual crate of lemons as part of their gift to House Stark for having them as guests every year. As for Theon Greyjoy, he got to enjoy the Dornish handmaidens accompanying the Martell party. Robb, on the other hand, got to enjoy the presence of his betrothed, something he did not truly care for or look forward to until he was about fourteen years; as children, Lyra and Robb were always more or less playmates. They would usually either practice archery or spar with training swords, which Lyra usually beat him at, thus earning her the response from little Robb that as his future lady he was simply _letting_ her win; or Lyra would join Sansa, Jon, and Robb in playing knights and maidens. During this game, Sansa and Lyra would dress up in their finest dresses and borrow their mothers' jewels, while Robb and Jon would duel for their favor. When they all became older, however, these games stopped and Robb and Lyra's relationship and interactions changed.

When Robb was around fourteen years of age, Lyra began to see him differently; rather than another child to play with, Robb and herself began to see each other as something more akin to romantic partners to whom were betrothed. She supposed it was likely due to the fact that he was beginning to reach manhood and finally became taller than her, but Lyra began to actually _flirt_ with Robb. A gesture which he was initially shy to return, but gradually Robb began to do so happily as they spent much more time together, alone; which sometimes led to some rather _scandalous_ activities. At this point, Lyra found herself beginning to find Robb to be quite handsome. Lyra had always found her uncles, Ned and Benjen Stark, to be rather handsome men; in fact, Lyra found _many_ men with the traditional Northern build and coloring to be quite handsome. Robb, despite having inherited more Tully features like his mother, was built more like the Northmen; having a stronger, taller, and more rugged build like his Stark relatives, a trait he shared with almost all of his siblings. Dornishmen were typically average in height, but very lean and graceful in build, which are the kind of men Lyra was used to seeing. She supposed that perhaps the reason why she found Robb so much more appealing than the Dornishmen who often tried to woo her, was because he was a Northman like her father; or perhaps, he simply seemed more _exotic_ to her than the Dornishmen.

Lyra, on the other hand, had inherited more Martell features, but she _did_ still have some of the tell-tale Stark traits from her father; she was a little taller than the average Dornish woman, had thick long waves of dark hair, and a long face like the Starks, but she was built lean, had dark eyes, and olive skin (albeit fair olive skin, unlike the traditional Dornishman) like the Martells. In addition, her nick-name in childhood had been "horse face", a trait Lyra shared with her cousin Arya Stark, and something the Stark boys and Theon occasionally made fun of her for. However, the way Robb has looked at her during her visit when she was sixteen years, told her that he no longer found her face to be so long. In fact, he even teased her good naturally about the fact that she had "grown into her face quite prettily". For years, their houses had been trying to make them spend more time together in order to spark romantic interest, which had been all for naught until then. Now Lyra and Robb enjoy their time together, and he feels more like a friend and suitor now. Robb may not be passionate or fiery like her or her family, he was more cold and reserved like his father in Lyra's opinion. However, Lyra did not mind this because in turn, Robb was kind, noble, and honorable; he was a good man. Despite the fact that Lyra was bored in his company sometimes, she felt like she could marry him and be happy as his lady wife. Admittedly, she may need to get used to the North, but eventually she felt she could be happy being the Lady Stark of Winterfell, a title she should have had since her father's death. A title she would soon have since Robb had already had his eighteenth name day some time ago and their families were now talking about marriage arrangements during their last visit to Winterfell.

Despite all of this however, Lyra would say that she was probably closest with Jon Snow out of all of her Stark cousins. It was Aunt Cat's ire towards her, and to a much greater degree, Jon Snow, which ended up being the whole reason why her and Jon were so close. Lyra and Jon would spar with sticks as children, and when they got a little older, they would even sneak a spar here and there with sparring swords. Robb would never spar with Lyra after he was fourteen years, claiming it as "unfair" and "dishonorable" for him to fight a future lady, especially if said lady were to be _his_ lady one day.

* * *

As Lyra was just about to doze off again, she got knocked in the face by something furry.

" _Meraxes!"_ It was Lyra's cat who had jumped on to her pillow, the cat she had received from her deceased uncle, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, when she was about five. Her and her parents were visiting King's Landing and she had befriended her cousin, Princess Rhaeneys. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Ellia were so pleased that both girls had become so close, that they each received a kitten to celebrate the occasion. Rhaeneys had named her cat "Balerion" after one of Aegon the Conqueror's dragons; so Lyra, being just a little girl and wanting to emulate her royal cousin and friend, felt inclined to name her cat "Meraxes", especially since that was the name of the dragon that her cousin's namesake rode, Queen Rhaenys, one of King Aegon's sister wives.

"Silly cat..." Lyra muttered as she gently lifted the elderly cat down.

"Ugh...seven hells...", Tyene mumbled to herself, waking up. "Did we _really_ fall asleep talking all night?" Tyene questioned Lyra.

"Yep", Lyra answered, stretching. "You were going on and on and _on_ about how much you fancied Prince Doran's newly pledged knight", Lyra rolled her eyes at her cousin. Tyene was _so_ fierce as a warrior but she tended to fall for knights like a love-sick maiden.

"It's midday, let's see if there's still any breakfast left", Lyra said splashing the cold water on her face. Drying her face with a towel, she began brushing her hair down, which had become rather volumized and frizzy from sleeping. Lyra considered herself rather fortunate to inherit straighter, finer hair than Tyene, who kept hers short so that it was easier to "deal with" as she had put it. Lyra generally just wore her hair down and brushed, preferring the freedom, but she did have the sides pinned back a little so that they would stay out of her way. She also normally wore black kohl liner and lined her eyes similar to a wolf's, it highlighted the brown in her eyes and made them more prominent while also protecting them from the rays of the Dornish sun; but now, Lyra was tired and just wanted to eat. Throwing on a light purple dress and black belt, she waited for Tyene to finish getting ready, then they went down to the kitchens to, embarrassingly, pick at the remnants of fresh fruit brought out for this morning's breakfast.

* * *

Getting down to the kitchens and seeing that all of the fruit from breakfast had been consumed, Lyra and Tyene had to beg for some bacon, cheese and toast. The head chef finally relented, called it a late birthday gift to Lyra, and told them not to make a habit out of it. Bringing their food to the main Dinning Hall, where the rest of the Martells were having their midday meal, the two girls sat down with the rest of the family.

"Hey!" Tyene exclaimed to her older sisters, Obara and Nymeria, "you could have woken us up you know!"

"Oh but little sister!" Obara sarcastically said, "you were so _besotted_ with Prince Doran's new knight that we thought to give you and Lyra the day to recover from all the _talking_ Tyene probably did". Obara was goading Tyene, something Nymeria usually did; but Obara thought it shameful that her little sister acted this way around knights.

Tyene was about to retort back when Doran's Head Guard, Areo Hotah, came in. "Lady Lyra", Areo addressed her, "Prince Doran has just received a raven from Winterfell and requests your presence. Your mother has already arrived. I would be happy to escort you". Areo was scary-looking, as a hulking fierce warrior wielding an axe-like spear _should_ look, but he was _always_ very calm and polite. Doran and Oberyn often spoke of his ferocity in battle, but they also joked about how polite and professional he was outside the battlefield.

Lyra trailed behind Areo Hotah as he led her down the hallways towards Prince Doran's solar. It was a beautiful day with a mild breeze. _Maybe it's cool enough to go for a ride later_ , Lyra absentmindedly thought to herself.

Arriving at Prince Doran's solar, Areo announced Lyra to her own uncle and mother, who looked as if they were in the heat of a passionate argument. Lyra's presence interrupting their argument, they both stared at her a moment before her mother spoke.

"Lyra", Meria said, glaring daggers at Doran, "the _Prince_ of Dorne has something to tell you".

Prince Doran, considered his sister for a moment with a look of distaste before composing himself back into his usual cool manner. "Robb Stark has called in his banner men in the North", he began.

Lyra, quickly realizing the gravity of the situation, sat down and seriously listened to Doran's words. Quickly sobering up.

"He is proclaiming himself 'King in the North'", Doran continued, occasionally glancing at the scroll, "he wants to expedite your marriage, making you 'Queen in the North'. In return, he wants my men to fight in his war. He is promising that in return, he will help Dorne, the North, _and_ the Riverlands break away from the Crown. _King_ Robb tells us that upon winning against the Crown, Dorne will be freed from the Seven Kingdoms and regain it's former glory as an independent kingdom of Westeros", Doran finished. He must have then seen the worry written all over Lyra's hungover face because he added, "Do not worry child. You will not be going". At this Lyra's mouth dropped.

"W-wha", Lyra was lost for words. The Martells _hated_ the Lannisters _and_ the Crown because it was held by King Robert Baratheon, the man who wanted the deaths of Lyra's cousins by her deceased aunt, Ellia, and uncle, Rhaegar Targaryen. The man who also upheld Ned's claim to Winterfell over Lyra's by Royal Decree so that Ned's claim would be uncontested, and so that Dorne, fighting alongside the Targaryens, would not lead the North against his rebellion. Dorn had the opportunity to _finally_ get revenge on the Lannisters, specifically Lord Tywin, and Baratheons.

"What in the Seven Hells?! Why not?!" Lyra exclaimed to her uncle the Prince. Why were the Martells **not** taking this "golden" opportunity that would make Dorne an independent kingdom again, make Lyra a _queen_ , regain her seat in Winterfell, and fulfill their long held family revenge in **one** bloody war? Doran's gaze hardened, reminding Lyra that though he is a gentle ruler and an old, wheelchair bound man, he was still _THE_ Prince of Dorne.

"Because King Robb _may_ have won every battle so far, but he cannot win this _war_ ", Doran spat this more to Lyra's mother, Meria, who was still glaring daggers at him, rather than to Lyra herself. "Tywin Lannister is a seasoned general, **and** he has won every war he's ever fought". Doran looked back at Lyra continuing, "I have much better plans concerning your future than for you to become the _fallen queen of a traitor king_ ".

Softening his gaze at his niece, Doran then asked, "Do you understand why I _cannot_ let you marry Robb Stark?"

Lyra calmed herself and considered Doran's words about Lord Tywin Lannister. _He_ is _the same man who slaughtered House Reyne and effectively kept the Seven Kingdoms at relative peace while the Mad King was tearing it apart._ After much consideration concerning Tywin's long history in battles and in wars, Lyra begrudgingly came to the conclusion that Doran was right.

"I understand why Prince Doran", Lyra finally answered.

"Good", he replied, relaxing back into his wheelchair, "now, go on and have your midday meal with your cousins".

As Lyra got up to leave her uncle and mother, Doran suddenly spoke to her just before pulling the door open to exit his solar.

"Please-" Doran suddenly stopped Lyra as she was exiting,"tell your uncle Oberyn that _our sister_ and I would like a word".

With that, Lyra left for the Main Dinning Hall.

Princess Meria, however, was not easily pacified on the matter. " **Doran** , _THIS_ is our opportunity! Why are we not taking it?! An alliance like this with the North would create the _perfect_ strategy to become and remain independent again as a kingdom! The northern most regions in alliance with the southern most region would create the perfect pincer move against the Crown! We could have Tywin and that _awful_ King, Joffery, **on their knees, begging for mercy within two years**!"

"Because _sister_ ", Doran drew himself up before his younger sister, " _I_ am _The Prince of Dorne_ and _I_ have _spoken_ on the matter. In addition, your daughter's inheritance _predicament_ gives her an opportunity for an even _bigger_ future than Queen in the North _or_ Lady Stark of Winterfell that will actually _last_ ". Doran looked at his little sister angrily, while she stared at him with surprise. "Now, if you will _sit down_ and listen to me, you will understand _why_ ; and if you wait and be patient enough for the results, it will please you _more_ than _this_ proposal _and_ her previous future".

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 **End Note: What do you think? Have I set it up well? More will be posted soon!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Raven Came

**Chapter 2: A Raven Came**

It had been quite some time since Lyra had spoken to Prince Doran and Princess Meria about rejecting King Robb's proposal. In fact, it had been quite some time since they had spoken about the War of the Five Kings at all! Mainly due to the fact that Prince Doran had all but banned speaking of the War of the Five Kings in Sunspear; at least in his presence that is. Probably because doing so led to the inevitable argument between the Prince of Dorne and his two younger siblings.

Despite this though, the Sand Snakes _still_ managed to gather a lot of information, which was usually relayed to Lyra by Tyene, Nymeria, or Obara. Lyra was saddened to hear that her lord uncle, the honorable Lord Ned Stark of Winterfell and last Hand of the King to King Robert Baratheon. Despite everything with Robert's Rebellion and her rights to her seat in Winterfell stripped away, Lyra Stark genuinely liked her lord uncle Ned. She did not believe for _one second_ that he would ever betray the Crown and take the Iron Throne for himself; Lyra _knew_ King Robert was Ned's best friend, and also that Ned would _never_ do anything to betray him. Lord Ned Stark was _known throughout all Seven Kingdoms_ to be a man of honor and a man of truth, even to a fault. Out of respect for her uncle, whom Lyra always knew to be a good man who always _tried_ to do what was right, Lyra wore black mourning clothes for seven days and seven nights. Even after the mourning period was over, she still continued to wear _something_ black and dark colored clothes everyday. She didn't know how or what had happened, but whatever it was, Lyra _knew_ that her uncle had been wrongfully executed as a traitor; Lord Eddard Stark betraying the Crown? The son and royal family of his _best friend_ to whom Ned was probably more loyal to than his own lady wife? It simply made no sense...

The most recent battle news Lyra had heard that, now, King Stannis Baratheon was defeated by Lord Tywin Lannister, thanks to the help of the banner men of The Reach. Lyra's cousin Sansa Stark was no longer betrothed to King Joffery, to which Lyra thanked the Gods; but she was certain that poor Sansa's predicament as Queen Cersei's political prisoner had not gotten much better. In addition, she had heard _nothing_ of Arya Stark, and if she were alive and well in King's Landing, Lyra would have heard at least _something_ of the little girl. Sadly, Lyra assumed the worst: Arya Stark was dead. She felt her blood boil with rage when she thought about her uncle Ned and cousins, Sansa and Arya. After Stannis's stunning defeat by Tywin, Lyra had not heard anything else bout the war since then. Likely due to the fact that there were not any _actual_ battles since then; all of the sides probably needed to change their battle plans due to the facts that Tywin Lannister had essentially, successfully secured King's Landing, and also because The Reach had chosen to fight for the Crown, as of now, for the War of the Five Kings.

 _Everyone has taken a side in the War but us!_ Was the phrase Lyra often heard these days from people in hushed, angry tones. For the sake of the Seven! Even the _people_ of Dorne were growing discontent with Prince Doran's policy of neutrality for the war!

 _This is wrong!_ Lyra often thought to herself. _Why can't we at least do_ something _to help Sansa?! Even just taking Sansa to Dorne under Lannister guards would help_ her _but not King Robb's war effort nor would it damage the Crown or the Lannister's war efforts! By the Gods! Princess Marcella has even been sent to Dorne as Prince Trystane's betrothed with very little protection! If they distrust Dorne so much, then why would they send THE BLOODY PRINCESS and refuse to send Sansa?!_ Lyra had tried to approach Prince Doran with the idea of asking for Sansa to come to Dorne, even under the heavy guard of Lannister soldiers and the promise to stay neutral; but she had been swiftly and harshly rebuffed by her uncle the Prince, and was then told to _never_ speak of it again, saying that he did not want to give the Crown any reason to believe that Dorne was anything but neutral. _How can we possibly be neutral if we have taken the Princess under our roof? The Crown **must** trust us enough in order to arrange for that themselves! _Lyra practically wanted to hit Prince Doran these days every time she saw him! In fact, her and her mother _both_ wanted to knock some sense into their Prince!

After all of that information, the most recent news that Lyra had heard regarding the War at all was that King Robb Stark had made some foreign woman his queen. At this, Lyra initially felt sad and hurt; she liked Robb and _wanted, even expected_ to marry him for most of her life. However, after Lyra's initial feelings about Robb's marriage to, _Talia? Alia? Or was it Talisa?_ No matter, the Queen in the North's name was something Lyra had only heard in passing, so she didn't quite remember it. Surprisingly, though, once her disappointment had died down, Lyra was not bitter that Robb had chosen a foreign queen, unlike the rest of Westeros. In fact, Lyra pitied the poor woman, even feeling a common connection with her; _I always felt that being raised in Dorne, I'd be seen as too foreign to the Northmen to gain their respect as the wife of their liege lord, besides the fact that I would be Robb Stark's wife and born a Stark. Sure, I always knew that as Robb's wife, my word and legitimacy as Lady of Winterfell would be uncontested, but my father's name does not hurt either. I_ _cannot even imagine how difficult it must be for Robb's queen, not being from the North, not even being for the Seven Kingdoms, thus not growing up with the shared traditions and customs of the Seven Kingdoms; ruling and maintaining respect and power as Queen in the North in her own right will be almost impossible._

* * *

About a week after this news, Lyra was going to spar with Nymeria, Obara, and Tyene. Lyra's first opponent, chosen at random as always, was Nymeria. Lyra and the three other girls had been getting ready for their midday spar since morning, and they were going to make a sort of mini-tournament out of it, since as women, they were forbidden to compete in official tournaments.

Lyra had her long hair plaited back loosely, her bangs, allowed to loosely frame her face, while she wore an iron circlet on her head to help keep them out of her way. Her armor was made of hard, thick leather, like the other Dornish warriors: her tunic was a form fitting slate-grey so dark that the leather looked as it were almost black. The leathery armor-like tunic came just above Lyra's knees, almost like a dress, except, beginning high at her waist, the tunic had slits that widened significant just above her knees. The tunic was designed as such so that it would still look 'feminine', but Lyra would be able to move around in it just as well if she had been wearing a regular tunic. To reflect her status as the 'Lone Wolf', Lyra had the tunic lined all over and embellished with silver. Even her metallic shoulder pads and armlets were silver and had an intricate, beautiful earthy design. The fitted sleeves came down to the knuckle of her middle fingers, which were also lined in silver, and were secured to her middle fingers. Lyra also wore black chainmail over her chest and back (back and front sides of the chain mail came down do a V-shape just above her navel and just above her butt). In addition, Lyra also had black chain mail that dangled between her legs that also came down to a V-shape ending just above her knees, front and back. This chainmail was commissioned specifically for Lyra, thus, it was equipped simply by putting her belt on. Lyra had the smiths in Dorne attach the belt-like chainmail to her _actual_ belt for extra security and to also "clean up" her gear by making it look more polished. Most importantly to Lyra though, was the fact that the belt Lyra wore was black leather and it had a silver buckle with the Stark's Direwolf engraved in the silver, her boots were lightweight, tall dark-grey leather boots with a very short heel and with a very thick leather base. Lyra may be the "Lone Wolf" among the Martells, but she was a _Stark_ and thus a wolf nonetheless and she felt that her armor should reflect that. When she wore this armor, Lyra liked to believe that she was channeling her father's Stark warrior spirit, as wearing it always seemed to improve her martial skills.

Lyra's fondness for swordplay had not always been present. Ever since the Sack of King's Landing when she was around five years, Lyra had slowly grown more and more interested in swordplay or wielding _some_ kind of weapon. In fact, she had bothered Oberyn so much about it that he had finally relented and gave her a sparring sword, teaching her himself how to wield it when she was eight years, much to her mother's chagrin. Lyra had always been quite horrified at Princess Rhaenys's violent death. Probably because it shocked her that large, strong knights, who were sworn to protect the innocent, were capable of brutally murdering an _innocent_ little girl of five. One could say that the day Rhaenys, Elia, and Aegon were murdered, Lyra became disillusioned with the world and realized that she must protect herself. She could not rely on her husband or any other man or knight to protect her as her slaughtered relatives had, especially since those men too were ultimately unable to even defend themselves. This had always been her argument with her family to allow her to learn how to wield a sword; not to fight in battle, but to know how to protect herself should the need arise. When Lyra was fifteen years, she commissioned her own sword to be custom made for her to wield with greater ease. Believing that she would one day become Lady Stark of Winterfell at the age of eleven, she took it upon herself to read as much as she could about the tales and history of the North. In honor of her father's Stark heritage and his namesake Lyra named her sword "Night's Queen". Ever since then, Prince Oberyn persuaded Prince Doran to allow Sunspear's Master at Arms, a highly revered knight, to regularly teach her how to wield it like a proper swordsman. Eventually, she then began sparring with Obara, Nymeria, and Sarella with it. Lyra lost _a lot_ during the first months of sparring with the older, more experienced girls, but eventually, she began winning against them and they began to take her seriously as an opponent; however, this had come with many injuries, humiliations, and some scars. Tyene took her older half sister's, Sarella's, place in sparring with the three older girls when Sarella left Dorne to go "play her game in Oldtown" a couple of years ago.

At midday, Obara and Lyra were the first to arrive to the "sparring room"; a large, bare room designated specifically for Lyra and the Sand Snakes to practice privately. Lyra greeted her gruff cousin, who simply gave her a curt nod as they waited for their other two companions. Growing up, Lyra had always been a little afraid of Obara Sand, and if she were completely honest, she _still_ was. However, despite her rough and angry demeanor, Obara would, literally, kill anyone for her family, which Lyra quickly learned while growing up; when she was a girl of five in King's Landing, she had wondered off on her own to explore the Red Keep. A guard, not knowing that Lyra was the daughter of Brandon Stark and the niece of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia, threatened to chop her hands off if he ever caught her trying to steal any of the keep's valuable decorations, believing her to be one of Varys's little birds. Of course, being a noble girl of only five, she just _had_ to touch one of the beautiful, intricately carved rubies in one of the beautiful swords in the room kept for weapon display. The guard, believing that Lyra was a common girl attempting to steal the ruby, roughly grabbed her and threw her down. Obara happened to be walking by when this happened, and when the man grabbed Lyra's arm to cut it off, a fourteen-year-old Obara Sand quickly and without hesitation shoved her spear right through the guard's chest. Both girls had been in much trouble over the incident; Lyra for wondering off on her own while looking common, and Obara for killing one of the guards. The King's Guards, Ser Jaime and Ser Barriston themselves, took them to Prince Rhaegar so that he may decide their punishment. Thankfully, Prince Rhaegar was reasonable and allowed the two girls to explain themselves, and _actually_ listened to them. When they arrived, Prince Rhaegar recognized Lyra immediately, and he commanded the two members of the King's Guard to unhand his noble niece Lyra. Tearfully, Lyra told her uncle the Prince that she was in the weapon's display room and just wanted to feel one of the "beautifully carved rubies" and that she "didn't want to steal it", she "only wanted to touch it because it was so beautiful, but the man thought she wanted to steal it and tried to cut off [her] arm!" Rhaegar had been satisfied with Obara's explanation that the guard had not even attempted to figure out who Lyra was and that cutting the arm off a little girl of five without solid proof of theft was unreasonable. After explaining that, Obara Sand told Prince Rhaegar, "all I knew, your Grace, was that a dangerously unreasonable man was about to seriously disfigure and potentially kill my cousin, my _family_. So I did what anyone would do to protect someone of their blood from serious harm: I stopped him. Unfortunately, I had arrived too late and the guard was about to chop my noble cousin's arm off. I had to act swiftly, which meant killing the man". Obara then looked at the frightened Lyra and said, "if you must punish someone, then let it be me. Lady Lyra is only a noble girl of five and did not know any better." Looking intently at the Prince she then said, "Princess Rhaenys likes to run around the Red Keep dressed as a common girl as I'm sure you have observed as well, and she also likes to touch pretty things that perhaps she should not touch; the Princess could have _easily_ been in Lyra's situation, and I would have done the exact same for my cousin the Princess as I did for my cousin Lady Lyra Stark".

After hearing both girls out, Prince Rhaegar softened. Smiling, he picked up little Lyra and set her in his lap, telling her that she was not in trouble and that she has nothing to fear. _I was once a curious boy of five myself, and I too enjoyed dressing as a common boy and wondering about the Red Keep. There is no harm in_ curiosity _my sweet_ _niece. In fact, if I had not been so curious as a boy, I would not be the man I am today_. Looking at Ser Barriston and Ser Jaime, he asked them, "is this true? Was this man known for being unreasonable and violent?"

Ser Barriston nodded, "I _have_ heard stories of that nature of this particular guard, your Grace. Not long ago, the guard cut four fingers off a stable boy because he thought the lad was attempting to steal a horse from your Grace, when actually, Princess Rhaeneys had asked the boy to ready the horse for her to ride around the stables. The Princess claimed that while the boy secured the reigns and walked out of the stables to meet her in the courtyard so he could safely hold the reins for her as she slowly rode such a large horse safely. The Princess witnessed the whole ordeal and reported that the guard had asked no questions before taking the poor lad's fingers."

Prince Rhaegar, looking satisfied with everyone's answers and feeling confident that they spoke the truth, then looked at Obara Sand and proclaimed, "It seems to me then, my brave lady, that you are a hero for rescuing my lady niece from such a violent man. I believe that you are right; my daughter could have easily been in my niece's predicament, and I would most certainly not wish for _any_ harm to come to either girls for whatever reason. You have my eternal gratitude Obara Sand." With that said, the Prince then spoke to all four in the room, "I see no reason for this information to leave this room. See to it that it does not". Taking young Lyra Stark off his lap, the Prince stood and addressed the two King's Guards, "Escort the girls back to their rooms, and then afterwards, see to it that _any_ guard who has been known of heard of to behave in this manner or even similar is to be stripped of his post. I will _not_ have unreasonable men guarding my family and my home."

Ser Barriston taking Lyra Stark to escort her back to her mother and father, and Ser Jaime taking Obara Sand to escort her back to her father, the four began to leave when Prince Rhaegar suddenly stopped them. Motioning for Lyra Stark to come closer to him, he placed his hands on her shoulders and told her something that she will remember until the day she dies; "Curiosity is a _gift_ , not a _sin_. And it should be nurtured just as any other gift. Do not let this one terrible incident destroy your gift of curiosity, sweet Lyra".

That memory of that incident and Prince Rhaegar, is and always will be, Lyra Stark's fondest memory of her uncle Prince Rhaegar. And that day Obara Sand risked death and severe punishment just to save Lyra, who was part of Obara's family, was the day Lyra Stark began to revere Obara Sand as a tough and highly accomplished warrior, who would gladly die protecting anyone in her family, including Lyra.

* * *

"So, did you hear?" Obara broke the silence and bringing Lyra back to the present.

Lyra gave her burly cousin a questioning look. "No, I don't believe that I have. Is it about the War?"

Obara nodded, "Yes and no; they say that Ser Jaime Lannister's, the King Slayer's, sword hand has been hacked off and that he is on his way to King's Landing. With some large toe-headed warrior woman protecting him. There has been much talk about Ser Jaime possibly being sacked from the King's Guard over it," Obara finished with a menacing, yet gleeful look in her eyes. "I even hear that the 'Man who Shit's Gold' is even starting to look for a noble young bride for him". Obara was clearly reveling in the fact that Lord Tywin's "Golden Lion" of a son, a revered and greatly accomplished warrior, and _a Lannister_ , had lost his sword hand. Anyone with any sense knows this to mean that Lord Tywin's eldest son, the only child he takes pride in calling his own, will suffer the humiliation of never again wielding a sword like he used to.

Lyra knew that Obara smiled at the fact that the Lannisters had just suffered a serious blow, especially a Lannister who was the son of Lord Tywin himself. Lyra loved Obara and thought very highly of her cousin, but at times Lyra believed that Obara Sand was too cruel. Breaking the icey air of cruel reveling Obara was emitting, Lyra joked, "If it's true then that means he will have to fist Cersei's cunt with his stump". Both women burst out laughing at this; it was a joke at Jaime's expense, but at least it broke Obara's cruel attitude which was threatening to infect the atmosphere of the room. Lyra was tired of cruelty, she had suffered too much loss at it's hands, so she would rather replace it with humor, even if the joke was in bad taste. The two women continued to joke about the rumors of Queen Cersei and her brother until the other two Sand Snakes arrived.

* * *

"I said wine _not_ water," said a deep, slightly irritated voice full of cold curtesy.

"Y-y-yes, m'lord. I-I'll pour you wine I-I-instead," the bumbling cup-bearer told Lord Tywin, almost in tears of fear.

Twin Lannister rubbed his temples. _Not only can Cersei_ not _control that_ monstrosity _of hers, but apparently she also cannot figure out_ how _to organize a household. Even_ I _found a much more competent cup-bearer in Harrenhal. By the Gods, she was even a prisoner in the bloodiest shithole in all of Westeros!_ Tywin found himself more and more disappointed with his children these days. He was always disappointed in Tyrion, the little monster, but now, his two oldest children were embarrassing House Lannister, almost as much at Tyrion. Tywin leaned back in his chair in the Hand's Solar and closed his tired eyes, then there was a knock at the door. "Come in", Tywin sharply said as he straightened back up and folded his hands on his desk.

Grand Maester Pycell entered with a scroll in his hand, "Forgive me for my intrusion my lord, but a raven from Sunspear just arrived, and I thought that you might want to read it immediately".

"Come and give it hear then," Tywin emotionlessly beckoned Pycell, who gave him the scroll. It was from Prince Doran of Dorne; the unbroken seal of House Martell on the scroll told him as much. By nature, Tywin was a cautious man, but he also knew that one could never be _too_ cautious when dealing with Doran Martell; he was practical and just as shrewd as Tywin, but without the military might and aggression. Prince Doran tended to move slow, but surely, and he thinks far ahead into the future, and he is _always_ thinking, and every move that he executes is one step more towards his goals; which makes him a formidable man. House Martell has also sworn revenge on House Lannister for, what _they_ say, the crimes committed against Princess Ellia and her children by Lannister men under Lord Tywin's order.

Pycell listened as Lord Tywin read the scroll's contents aloud. Usually, when Lord Tywin did this, it was because he either wanted Pycell to know something important or to give him advice. The Grand Maester was always loyal to House Lannister before the Crown. When Lord Tywin finished reading, the two men fell silent. Pycell was shocked speechless and Lord Tywin could not believe the luck which he had just stumbled upon in a single scroll, yet he still remained cautious.

Finally, Pycell broke the silence. "What are you going to say to Prince Doran's terms, my lord?" Pycell questioned with earnest curiosity. Pulling out a quill from his desk, Lord Tywin gave the Grand Maester a cold stare before he calmly replied, "yes".

Pycell, shocked, looked at him in surprise. "With-Without consulting the King or the Queen Regent first, my lord? He _is_ Kingsguard after all. Do you not think that _they_ should have a say in this?"

Lord Tywin, without missing a beat, curtly replied, "Joffrey will do as he is told, as will Cersei _"._

* * *

Lyra winced in pain as she picked up Night's Queen. Lady Nym had gotten her right bicep pretty good with her whip. Sheathing her woman-sized long sword, Lyra finished up practice with the rest of the Sand Snakes. Today had been a particularly good practice; even though Nym had beaten her in the first round, Lyra still beat Obara. Lyra _rarely_ beat Obara in a melee. Lady Nym had won the tournament, Lyra coming in second and tying with Obara, Tyene had to concede last place as usual. The four of them were about to go for a ride to unwind from their mini-tournament, when Areo Hotah came to their practice room.

"Forgive my intrusion ladies," Areo said, emotionless. Turning to Lyra he stated the nature of his intrusion, "The Prince would like a word my lady".

"Can it wait?" Lyra asked tiredly.

"I'm afraid not, Lady Lyra. Prince Doran wants to meet with you immediately."

Looking at the Sand Snakes, who all had a confused look, Lyra turned and followed Areo, anxious and eager to know what was so important. Arriving at the door of Prince Doran's Solar, Areo knocked, entered, and announced Lyra's arrival before he promptly turned and left, closing the door behind him. Doran looked to be in a good mood, he didn't look as stressed as usual, in fact Lyra's uncle looked _happy_.

"Afternoon, uncle," Lyra began, sitting down in-front and to the right of Doran at the long meeting table. "You wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes," he replied, "I am truly sorry about Robb Stark, Lyra. I know that you've had your heart set on that future."

Doran wasn't wrong: Lyra _did_ have her heart and hopes set on that marriage, but she tried her best to be graceful about her loss. "It's okay, uncle, I understand why you broke off the engagement to Robb and any remaining political ties to the North." If Lyra were honest with herself, she was fairly certain that Robb would end up losing the war. Sure he'd won every battle so far, but she felt like he would ultimately lose the war. Lyra hated that she couldn't help her cousins though. They _are_ family after all.

"Good", Doran responded, simply. Suddenly, Doran looked at her wistfully, "You have always been such a good child. And beautiful. **And** intelligent. _Even_ if you tend to be rather rash, just like Oberyn and Meria **and** Brandon", he said with a smile. Taking out a scroll, Doran asked Lyra, "How do you feel about the possibility of becoming _Lady Lannister?"_

Lyra winced in surprise, but maintained her composure. "Being Lady of the Rock sounds wonderful! But marrying the Imp? Sorry, uncle, but to me, that is a deal breaker." She said this with resolve, mind made up about the matter.

"No", Doran spoke sharply, "you would _not_ be marrying the _Imp_ , _Tyrion_ Lannister". Lyra gave him a quizzical look at this information, until Doran explained, "As I am sure your loud mouthed _cousins_ have probably already told you," he said, irritated, "It is true that Jaime Lannister has lost his sword hand. Due to this, his father, Lord Tywin Lannister wants his son, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, to leave the Kingsguard". Doran paused, letting Lyra soak in this information.

"So...", Lyra trailed in disbelief, _it_ is _true_ , _he_ has _lost his sword hand._ Then the realization hit her like the crack of Lady Nym's whip; "If I'm hearing you correctly, then you're wanting me to marry the _Kingslayer, Ser_ Jaime Lannister? The son of our sworn enemy? But I thought the Kingsguard was for life, able-bodied or no; and even then, I thought that Kingsguard forfeited all inheritance."

"Yes, all of what you have just said is correct. The Kingslayer will be released from his vows of the Kingsguard, but knowing Lord Tywin, Jaime will be allowed to regain his title as Tywin's heir to Casterly Rock. Lord Tywin's actions over the years have made it _very_ clear that he will have nobody but his eldest son, Jaime, to be his heir. This is, of course, assuming that the Kingslayer _does actually_ return to Kings Landing _alive_ ".

Lyra looked worried and a little unsure; she knew what Doran was asking of her and he could tell that she was not thrilled.

"Lyra," Doran began gently, "I _know_ what i'm asking of you is a hard decision to make. I made this proposition to Lord Tywin without telling you, and for that, I'm sorry. But Lord Tywin has already consented, and he has assured me that once the Kingslayer has arrived and has had time to recover enough, the two of you will promptly be married".

Lyra began to relent after hearing this.

Doran continued, "I _know_ how you feel about King's Landing, Lyra, I _know_ that it is where everyone died; Rhaenys, Ellia, Baby Aegon, Brandon, Rickard... But you are strong, Lyra, and you are smart. I believe that you _can_ make it in King's Landing. You will not be alone child, Oberyn and Ellaria will be with you, along with Trystane, Arianne, and your other cousins. You should also take comfort in the fact that you will more than likely not be in Kings Landing for long. I'm sure that Tywin will be eager to have his heir return to Casterly Rock and rule in his stead. _Especially_ since i hear that King Robb intends to invade the Wastelands."

Lyra looked at Doran intensely. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; _marrying Ser Jaime? Becoming a Lannister? Lady of Casterly Rock? Fighting against half of her family?_

"I believe that this may be your only chance to regain your seat in Winterfell. Sure, after Robb is dead, Sansa Stark will be heir to Winterfell; but your father was Brandon Stark, older brother to Ned Stark whose only living children are a girl and a bastard in the Night's Watch. _Y_ _our_ children will have THE strongest claim to Winterfell, especially since the Crown and the Lannisters will win this war. Tywin _knows_ this. He will need you to help create a solid, uncontested loyalty of the North when he wins this war."

"So then this means that we will no longer be neutral? We will fight along side the Crown? _Against half of my kin?_ "

"I _know_ that I am asking a lot of you Lyra, but all this fighting and animosity _has got to come to an end_. I know you child; you want your seat, but you also hate to see the innocent suffer, and as long as this war continues, innocents will die by the thousands. _You_ have always been a bystander to watching this suffering and never being able to do anything to stop it. _Now_ is your chance to take control of your life _and_ to help the innocent stop suffering."

The room feel early silent as Prince Doran and Lyra Stark starred intently at one another, searching the other's face for answers. "Is this an 'order' from you, or is it a 'request'?" Lyra finally asked.

"Consider this...a 'recommendation'".

Lyra took a few moments to let all of this information soak in: she would be the Kingslayer's wife, future Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock, and her children would inherit her father's seat in Winterfell; but this would also mean that Lyra would have to spend a considerable amount of time in King's Landing, _and_ she would have to deal with Queen Cersei Lannister, the frigid bitch of them all; and if the rumors about her and the Kingslayer are true, then she _could_ pose an even greater threat to Lyra in Kingslanding. Queen Cersei was notorious for her limitless rage and jealousy, which could make her _very_ dangerous. Lyra looked at the floor, lost in her thoughts, faced with the tough decision that could either save or destroy thousands, a decision she was being forced to make. Making up her mind, Lyra took a deep breath to calm her nerves before she sat up, "Yes, I'll do it. I'll marry Jaime Lannister", Lyra told Prince Doran with determination in her voice. "When do we leave for King's Landing?"

"Tomorrow morning. Tywin wants us there as soon as possible. Your mother and Oberyn have already been notified and are ready to leave at a moment's notice based upon your answer."

Lyra felt a surge of anger at this. "They _knew_? They knew all along and they didn't tell me?!"

Prince Doran did something he rarely did, he stood up from his chair, slowly and shakily. Fearing he may fall, Lyra rushed to his side and held her dear uncle. "Do not be angry with them Lyra. I forbade them to tell you; this is _your_ decision, and it is one that only _you_ can make. I felt it was only fair to prevent them from swaying you either way." Finishing, he embraced his niece, for what he was certain to be the last time, and he held her tightly; Prince Doran knew that he was losing Lyra forever. Kissing her forehead, he sadly added, "For what it is worth, I believe that what you are doing is _right_. I _know_ that you can do this Lyra Stark; you have the bravery of Meria; the sharp mind of House Martell's founder, Nymeria; the compassion of Elia; the skill of Brandon; the fiery passion of Oberyn; and most importantly, the honor of the Starks that runs through your veins. These qualities all on their own are dangerous and can lead you to ruin and an early death; but together, they temper each other and create a balance. _**Never lose that balance, Lyra**_."


	3. Chapter 3: Leaving

**Author's Note: How** **does everyone like the inclusion of the Sand Snakes? I think they make the story more family oriented, and family is a big theme of this story. Plus, in my opinion, they are the embodiment of what Dorne is all about, and they have the pot** **ential to both be serious and provide much needed comic relief.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Leaving**

Lyra sat down on one of the leather sofas in the library, she knew that she needed to keep packing, but it had truly been a _very_ long day. She had gotten up early to get ready for the midday tournament with the older Sand Snakes, which wore her out before evening even came. Not to mention the fact that she was also nursing several injuries from the day's mini-tournament, which included _many_ bruises and a particularly badly bleeding lash from Nymeria's whip. **Then** she was summoned into Prince Doran's solar, and she was forced to make a decision that would forever change her life; regardless of her decision to marry Jaime Lannister or not. On top of all of that, she then had to start the long and arduous task of packing almost every possession she ever owned. Lyra was, to say the least, exhausted; both physically and emotionally.

As soon as Prince Doran received Lyra's consent, he sent her reply to Lord Tywin. Then, she and everyone else who was going to King's Landing, began to pack. Jaime and Brienne were going to take quite some time, still, to arrive to King's Landing, so instead of going by boat; the Martell party would be traveling across the Kingdoms to reach King's Landing. It was going to be a long journey, a journey made with heavy hearts. Doran had told her that she likely would be leaving for Casterly Rock from King's Landing, so he advised her to pack everything she wished to have with her at the Rock. She had her light-thin fabric dresses with their belts packed, along with her warmer dresses and gowns for when she arrived to King's Landing. In addition, Lyra also packed some of her heirlooms and personal items, namely: the silver hair comb with a large winter rose as ornamentation she had inherited from her paternal grandmother, her father's sword, which she never used due to the fact that the longsword was too big for her to wield properly, and Lyra's personal sword and armor, which were packed when her handmaidens weren't looking. After everything was packed and ready to go for the morning, Lyra dismissed her tired hand maidens early. She wanted peace and quiet to mourn for the loss of her childhood home, and so she told them that she would get herself ready for the evening.

Finished packing her luggage, Lyra needed to think about what she needed to carry with her on their journey. She thought to herself, _we probably won't even go through half of Dorne, Doran had said. I need to be lightweight._ With this in mind, Lyra set out a periwinkle light-weight silky dress, a dress made in a style popular among the noblewomen Dorne. Lyra set the dress out on the chair of her vanity, along with her thigh high light grey leather boots, since she'd be riding tomorrow. Lyra, like the four oldest Sand Snakes, refused the carriages; unlike Arienne, Ellaria, Meria, Mercella and Ellaria's three youngest daughters. Oberyn and Trystane would be riding their horses together, along with the other noblemen, who would be joining them as they passed through Dorne. Eventually, the Martell party would be more akin to a Dornish _caravan_ the further out of Dorne they traveled. Prince Doran, mostly due to his gout, would be staying in Sunspear, saying that at least one Martell needed to stay in Dorne; Prince Trystane and Doran's heir, Princess Arienne were to represent Prince Doran as his heirs at Lyra's wedding.

Taking her off her silk burnt orange dress with yellow sun flowers embroidered at the deep plunging v-neckline. The dress was long, very lightweight, and it was sleeveless. Taking her coppery-gold upper arm bangles which was designed to be a snake motif-looking like a coppery-gold snake, including a head with orange eyes-it was then that Lyra began having second thoughts about this agreement between Prince Doran and Lord Tywin Lannister.

Sitting down at her vanity, Lyra began brushing her hair for bed in her pale yellow shift. _What if the rumors of the Lannister twins are true?_ Lyra worried; she did not want to become Queen Cersei's enemy, and Lyra could think of no quicker way to become her enemy than by marrying her brother Jaime; that is, if the rumors were true and he truly was her lover. _Which there's a chance that they might **not** be true_ , Lyra reminded herself. Either way though, Lyra already knew that she was going to be getting hell from Queen Cersei in King's Landing. It _was_ Cersei after all who had helped perpetuate Lyra's nickname "horse face".

 _...But my seat and my family...This marriage can help put an end to this war and potentially save thousands._ Lyra desperately wanted the seat that she felt was her birthright, though she knew that _she_ herself would never sit in it. However, it was a comfort to know that although Lyra herself could not take her seat at Winterfell, her second son could probably take it. Speaking of having children, Lyra wasn't even too sure how she felt about marrying the Kingslayer. She was disgusted with herself for agreeing to marry a Lannister, which was made even worse by the fact that it was Jaime Lannister, THE Kingslayer. The man who killed the Mad King as Lyra's extended family was brutally murdered above him. Lyra would be lying to herself if she said that she wasn't bitter that no-one in the King's Guard had come to her family's aid.

 _What am I doing?_ She thought, _I have no idea what I'm doing. I think that I_ may _be_ _WAY over my head with this one._ Then, a terrifying thought crossed her mind. _What if the North won't accept me or my children?_ Lyra _is_ Brandon Stark's heir, the older brother of Lord Eddard' Ned' Stark, whose sons are all about to be dead, leaving only Sansa and Ned's bastard, Jon Snow, as his heirs. _Surely I would have a better claim than a bastard or my younger cousin. Especially if I re-gain Winterfell by Royal Decree to back my claim._

Lyra worried and worried that this would be all for naught, to the point that the Sunspear Maester had to bring her a drought to calm her nerves. Drinking the draught and reading for a while, she became exhausted and sleepy so she decided it was finally time to blow out the candles all over her chambers, climbed into bed into bed, and then blew out the candle on her nightstand; leaving her in total darkness, save for the dull light of the moon filling her chambers through the windows. Lyra laid back and tried to rest her mind, which became easier and easier; the draught was beginning to work. _Good_ , she needed plenty of sleep for tomorrow; it was going to be a big day and Lyra wanted to wake up at dawn, well rested.

* * *

Lord Tywin Lannister was sitting at The Hand of the King's solar, doing his paperwork until Queen Cersei stormed in, in a whirl of gold and bright red silks from her gown with gold Lannister lions embroidered on the shoulders.

"Why was I not informed of Jaime's upcoming marriage?!" She raged at her father. "You _know_ how I know?! The _servants and my hand maidens_ have been gossiping about it all day! I am the _Queen Regent_! _I_ should have been consulted before you made this arrangement", Cersei acussed her father, angrily. "And _what_ is this talk about Jaime leaving the Kingsguard?! That is a _royal_ prerogative, which neither I, nor Joffrey have consented to Jaime's leave".

Lord Tywin put down his quill and folded his hands on the desk. Giving his eldest child a cold, hard and emotionless expression, he stated simply, " _The KING_ has already exercised his royal prerogative at my, The Hand's, behest. As soon as Jaime arrives, the King shall inform him that due to his...unfortunate accident, losing his sword hand, King Joffrey has deemed Jaime unfit to continue his service in the Kingsguard. In addition, Joffrey will restore all of Jaime's birth rights and titles as my heir, and he has already agreed to approve of Jaime's marriage to Lyra Stark". Narrowing his eyes at Cersei, Tywin then added, "Or did your own _son_ not tell you?"

Choosing to ignore Lord Tywin's last statement, Cersei scoffed at the mention of Lyra Stark. "Who? 'Horse Face'?!", Cersei laughed at this. "You truly believe that Jaime will be happily married to _Horse faced Lyra?_ "

"Who just so happens to have _grown in to_ her long face", Tywin reprimanded Cersei. "Upon Prince Doran's proposal, I was also sent a recent portrait of Lyra Stark. A recently commissioned one made only three months ago; and I must say, the name 'Horse Face' appears to no longer apply to her. In fact, from what I have _seen_ and _heard_ of her so far, I believe that she is the best choice as the future Lady of the Rock."

"And you're _certain_ that this has _nothing_ to do with her being the sole heir of Brandon stark? The North will _never_ support her claim. _Even if_ she is THE legal heir to Winterfell after Robb Stark's death, and even if _you_ declare her Lady of Winterfell through Royal Decree. The North is untamed, it is wild, and they do _not_ _just_ follow the Starks; the North will only follow the Starks who are descended from their liege lord, which last I remember was Lord Ned Stark. The Northmen loved their dear Ned so much in fact that they even named his heir, Robb Stark, _King in the North_. The Northmen will _not_ bend the knee to Lyra Stark _or_ her heirs, _especially if we_ install her in Winterfell. Lyra is an outsider, she is only a Stark in name, but even _that_ will change soon. The Northern lords do _not_ know her, to them, she will be nothing more than an outsider from Dorne, who is also married to a Lannister. Married into the family that will kill their King. Only Starks _raised_ in the North, not some foreign Stark raised in Sunspear like Lyra Stark can effectively bring the Northern lords to heel. Besides, do you really expect the North to follow someone who has sworn their allegiance with House Lannister?"

Tywin, now deeming the argument dull and Cersei being argumentative, simply ignored her and went back to his work; which he heard Cersei scoff at it in disbelief. "You are a fool if you truly believe that the main reason why I'm marrying Lyra Stark to Jaime is for her seat in Winterfell", Tywin began, "I have no intentions for Lyra Stark or her children to take back her seat; instead, Lyra Stark's claim to Winterfell will only reinforce and solidify Tyrion and Sansa's claim to the seat. Especially if Lyra Stark abdicates the seat to Sansa and declares _her_ the true heir to the seat in Winterfell". Tywin said this, making a point by ending his last sentence with a loud scrape of his quill as he signed a document. "The purpose of Jaime marrying Lyra Stark is strictly for _political_ _alliances_. The Lannisters and Dorne have been at each other's throats for _far_ too long, which was made even _worse_ by _your_ deceased husband's War. Tyron has already attempted to mend the broken alliance with the Lannisters and Dorne by promising Marcella to Prince Trystane, and thus sending her away to be raised by his side in Dorne. However, Tyrion was still unable to bring Dorne back into the fold in the War of the Five Kings. Lucky for House Lannister _and_ The Crown, I received a raven from Prince Doran, likely after he had heard about Jaime's...disfigurement...and he gave me an offer that I could _not_ refuse".

"What could the _Martells_ have that we could _possibly_ want", Cersei spat.

"First", Tywin responded condescendingly, "they have the ships we need. Second; Prince Doran has stated that, should I refuse his offer, he will take up the Tyrell's offer of marriage to her; which means that the Tyrells will not only have their military strength, and they will also have a strongest _legal_ claim to rule the North once Robb Stark is dead. I _can_ appoint Ser Loras Tyrell to the Kingsguard, but I cannot compel Lyra Stark to do the same, which leaves Dorne open to an alliance with another kingdom who may or may not be our allies. We _do not_ want Dorne actively fighting against us. In addition, despite what they say about the fact that the North will never accept Lyra _or_ her children as the heirs to Winterfell, the Tyrells have the political acumen and charisma to actually have a good chance of accomplishing this once Robb Stark is out of their way. Lastly, they have the military might that we need: the Martells have the naval power _and_ the speed that we need, they also use guerrilla war tactics, _and_ they managed to ward off the Targaryen dragons for over a century; which makes the Martells a valuable ally."

Cerise opened her mouth to argue further, but Tywin had enough arguing with her. Standing up, he yelled, " _You_ are _my daughter_!" Cerise visibly flinched, briefly shocked and terrified. Tywin continued, " _you, Jaime, and Tyrion_ will do as I say. _By the Gods!_ _Tyrion_ has done his duty to House Lannister by securing our power in the North through marrying Sansa Stark. It is _high time_ Jaime married a suitable, high born wife, and that he takes his place as my heir to Casterly Rock. Lyra Stark is treated as an extension of House Martell due to the fact that she was raised in Sunspear by her mother Meria Martell, despite her status as "The Lone Wolf" in Dorne. If Lyra Stark marries Jaime, not only will it will put to rest those **_disgusting rumors_** about you and Jaime, but it will also tie Dorne's interests with House Lannister's and The Crown's". Tywin paused for a moment to let this information sink in to Cersei before concluding, "The Tyrells _will not have_ a chance to influence the North as long as I am alive. _You_ , Cersei, will marry Ser Loras Tyrell in Lyra Stark's stead; which will give House Lannister _considerable_ influence over the South, the Wastelands, the Reach, and, now, Dorne, as well as a solidified influence in the North".

Going back to his work at his desk, Tywin waved his hand as a gesture for Cersei to leave his solar. "Enough. I am The Hand of the King and I have work to do. Get out", Tywin told Cersei with cold curtesy.

With that, Cersei huffed, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the Hand of the King's Solar.

* * *

Lyra awoke later than she wished the morning she and the others of House Martell were due to depart for King's Landing, a two week journey. Quickly washing her face and putting on her signature smokey kohl eyeliner, Lyra heard her mother knocking on her door to tell her that they were leaving soon.

At her mother's urgency, Lyra quickly put her dress, belt, and boots on. She accessorized with a thigh gauntlet, which was silver and inlaid with square cut sapphires, silver-brown hoop earrings made from the antlers of a buck, a silver medallion engraved with a dire wolf on a silver chain, and very thick brown leather gauntlets tied to each wrist. Besides the earrings and necklace, Lyra's accessories served a fancy, yet important purpose; to protect her incase their convoy should meet some _unscrupulous_ _characters_.

Letting her bangs hang loose as she loosely braided her dark hair, she then strapped a dagger to her right thigh. When Meria Martell knocked on Lyra's door as a last call before their convoy left for King's Landing, Lyra quickly found and secured a sheathed Night's Queen to her belt; and with that, Lyra left to join the others in the Courtyard. Preparing herself for a painful two week journey of _horrid_ road wear.

* * *

 **Author's End Note: What do you think? _Constructive_ criticism is _ALWAYS_ welcomed, so please don't be shy :)**

 **BTW: Don't worry, we'll be seeing some Lyra/Jaime romance pretty soon!**


	4. Chapter 4: The Beginning and The Army

**Author's Note: I realize that my story's timeline is a bit off from the main series and especially the novels, but for the sake of continuity, please ignore this detail and go with it. Also, Jaime comes back to King's Landing a little earlier too. Like Season three, episode six early.**

 **Also, thought I should mention: each segment is narrated from character perspectives, so not everything is going to be _completely_ accurate. I wanted to emphasize the biased nature we all inherently have to a certain extent!**

 **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS FROM THE BOOK SERIES, A SONG OF FIRE AND ICE!**

 **Happy Reading! ^-^**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: The Beginning and the Army**

Riding one of Dorne's legendary Sand Steeds, Lyra Stark was beginning to sweat a little too much for her liking. Plus, her body was beginning to ache from all of the traveling. Irritably, she couldn't help but to think, _Coming to King's Landing by boat would have been much more efficient and faster, but nooo; Prince Oberyn just_ had _to take the scenic route so that his youngest daughters could see the countryside outside of Dorne._ Not that Lyra minded _that_ much; she enjoyed riding, especially if she was riding a Dornish Sand Steed. Made for desert climates, the Dornish Sand Steed was reputed to be the fastest horses in all Seven Kingdoms; not only that, but they were reputed to possess the most endurance, being able to go days and nights riding without water. _So far, this one has most definitely upheld his breed's reputation_ , Lyra thought, patting her Sand Steed's chestnut coat. According to the stable boy, this Sand Steed's name was Brightsun.

The Martell convoy was making great timing, the fast speed and smooth riding of the Dornish Sand Steeds helped a lot though. Ahead of the rest of the Martell convoy, Lyra galloped over the hill; she had never seen Yronwood, which is where Prince Oberyn said they would be staying the night. Reaching the top of the hill and slowing Brightsun to a stop next to Prince Oberyn, Lyra looked over at the horizon with wonder. She _had_ obviously been North of Sunspear before, but she had not been through the Northern part of Dorne that led to the region of Westerns known as The Reach. There was still a bit of bad blood between Houses Tyrell and Martell due to the fact that the last time a Tyrell visited Dorne, he was assassinated by the Martells through leading him to a bed full of venomous scorpions. Also, when Lyra Stark and Princess Meria Martell made their yearly travel up North, they had always gone by boat.

House Yronwood was the second most powerful house in Dorne; though of course, House Martell was _the_ most powerful. Although Lyra knew that the only reason why House Martell was the ruling family of Dorne was because of Nymeria, the Rhoynar ancestor of every member of House Martell. Oberyn liked to boast that being descendants of Nymeria herself is why the Martells have such warrior-like and passionate personalities; and Prince Doran liked to remind his older brother that Nymeria was a shrewd politician in addition to being a fine warrior, but it was her political acumen and charisma that ultimately won over the other Dornish houses after the new House Martell had conquered them.

Defeating _your enemies is one thing, but_ winning _them is an entirely different matter._ Prince Doran liked to repeat this riddle quite often to Princess Arienne, especially, Prince Trystane, and Lyra. Lyra felt like that was the wisest advice Prince Doran had ever given her. Essentially the riddle meant that defeating your enemies is the easy part, but making them your allies, and thus, winning them over is the hardest part of ruling over your former enemies; but this was the most important part when it comes to ruling.

Obara rode up with Nymeria, stopping next to their father, Oberyn. "So _these_ are the cowardly cunts who like to brag about how they **_used_** to rule more of Dorne than the Martells", Obara sneered.

"The fallen King Yoren. Not even brave enough to go down with the men who fought for him, so instead he goes to the wall", Nymeria said with both pity and disgust.

Not only was there a little bit of bad history lingering from long ago between the Martells and the Yronwoods, but there was also some _recent_ bad history between the two houses. Though this was many years ago, an adolescent Prince Oberyn was discovered in bed with Lord Yronwood's paramour by Lord Edgar Yronwood himself. The two fought a duel to settle the matter "like men", they say. Lord Yronwood lost against Prince Oberyn, not even lasting five minutes against his young Prince. Oberyn wasn't called 'The Viper' for nothing, even as far back as adolescence. The duel should have settled things between the two houses politically; but it did not do so _personally_. Thus, ever since, House Yronwood has kept its oath to House Martell, but they have done so rather reluctantly. In fact, during any name-day celebrations, the current Lord Yronwood always sent his younger brother to represent them in his stead; an insult to House Martell.

"It no longer matters," Oberyn said to his daughters, " _though_ House Yronwood like to remind us that they were once greater kings than we were", he smiled, "they still ended up bending the knee to _a woman_ , a warrior woman who had beaten them by herself no less. Even now, they continue to bend the knee to House Martell, while even being too afraid to compete against us in tournaments." This earned a laugh from the three women next to him.

They all paused for a moment, still on their horses, soaking up the exquisite scenery before them. Sunspear was generally considered to be one of the most beautiful cities of Westeros, but it was still located in a deserts climate, granted though in an oasis. North Dorne, however, where the fair colored 'Stony Dornish were from, was so close to Storm's End, so it was lush and green due to the late fall rains; Lyra had even heard that they get snow sometimes! A sight that she longed to see in her own homeland.

"Well", Oberyn interrupted everyone's thoughts, "the convoy is about twenty minutes behind us, shall we go ahead and meet with Lord Anders? You girls know how Ellaria gets after a long trip, and I believe that we would all prefer to have her resting _quietly_ in her courters; rather than us having to listen to her complaining about how _exhausted_ she is." Oberyn said this, winking at the three women. He loved his paramour, and Ellaria Sand had even been considered part of the Martell family since Lyra was very young; which is why Lyra, Arienne, and Trystane had always had no trouble referring to her as "Aunt Ellaria", which they all knew she loved and ate up being given the privilege of being called the "aunt" of anyone in the Martell family. Though they all admitted, she could at times be difficult to travel with. Having been born the bastard daughter of a rich Dornish lord and raised in her father's household (Dornish bastards have always been known to be treated with _much_ greater kindness and kinship than the other kingdoms of Westeros), she could be _such a petulant "princess"_ sometimes, just like Princess Arienne herself. Especially when they all traveled together on the roads.

* * *

Lord Yronwood was polite, but that was all Lyra could say about the man. Despite being so foreign to the rest of Westeros, the Dornish all still believed in good hospitality and "Guest Rights"; just like the rest of Westeros. It seemed though that Lord Yronwood forgave Prince Oberyn about the "Paramour and the Duel Incident" because the "royal party", including Lyra and the Sand Snakes, were all given chambers to sleep in, inside the castle for the night; however, it seems that he doesn't _completely_ forgive the incident. Seeing as their men, were _invited_ to make camp and sleep _outside_ the caste walls, in addition to having access to Yronwood's hunting grounds, instead of inviting them to feast at his table as the Starks and the other noble houses usually did. In other words: Lord Yronwood has forgiven Prince Oberyn and does not wish to piss off House Martell; but they are friendly with House Martell professionally, and not personally. House Yronwood had made it painfully clear that they were simply _tolerating_ the fact that the Martell's host needed a place to stay for the night, which House Yronwood was tolerating simply because they swore and oath to House Matell; but otherwise, they were not welcome.

Covered in a fine layer of dirt, grime, and, embarrassingly, sweat, Lyra reluctantly had dinner with the Yronwoods without having a proper bath; instead, she'd only been given enough time to wash up and change into a fresh gown, much to her's and her other female relatives' chagrin. Especially Ellaria and Princess Arienne, who both liked to look their best on any occasion. Needless to say, Lyra was more than happy when Lord Yronwood, seeing how exhausted Lyra was (she was yawning constantly and obviously _just_ to annoy him), told her that he "insisted" that she retire to her chambers early.

Arriving to her chambers for the night at the Castle Yronwood, the first thing Lyra did was ask that her hand maiden would mind to have a warm bath drawn up for her. Lyra did not really have handmaidens until she was eighteen and that was mostly due, if not _entirely_ , because of her mother's behest.

 _Lyra, I know that you have this strange obsession with proving how independent you are, but you're a_ lady _and you need to start acting like one_ , is what Princess Meria had told her.

In Dorne, having a handmaiden who was the daughter of a lesser noble house was not uncommon. Especially if the lady she served was to be _the_ _future Lady_ of a kingdom. However, in return for the girl's service as handmaiden to a Lady, Lyra was expected to eventually use her influence to arrange a better marriage for her than she would have had she not been in Lyra's service. Shortly after Lyra's eighteenth name day, Meria had Ashara Dayne be Lyra's head hand maiden; Ashara Dayne, who was named for her beauty of a second cousin, and Edric Dayne's tragic aunt who killed herself. The sweet, blonde haired, freckled girl told Lyra that she would ask the Yronwood servants for help and that she'd have it done as soon as possible.

Finally alone, Lyra poured herself a goblet of Red Arbor Wine and reclined in a cushy chair. She felt her mind drift for a moment, looking out of the open balcony at the beautiful, twinkling stars. _It's a new moon_ , she observed, sipping her wine. When Ashara and the Yronwood servants arrived with a copper bath and buckets of hot water, Lyra poured Ashara a glass of wine. Motioning to the other woman, Lyra stated to her, "drink my friend". With that, Ashara walked over, took the glass of wine Lyra was offering her and sat next to her lady, both women sipping their wine as they watched the servants prepare the bath. In Sunspear, Lyra had two handmaidens, and she had asked both of them if they should like to go with her to King's Landing, and then eventually, Casterly Rock. After much prodding and assuring both girls that Princess Arienne would be happy to have one or both of them as her handmaidens upon her return, only Ashara had asked to come; so she was the only handmaiden whom Lyra had brought with her.

Once the servants finished drawing the bath, Lyra gave them a small amount of money for their trouble and begged their leave. As the water cooled, Ashara helped Lyra out of her dress and pulled her hair up into two knots on her head; so that Lyra could bathe without having to worry about getting her hair wet. After Ashara set out a silk lilac purple robe with red flowers and green stems beautifully embroidered on the sleeves on the vanity chair for Lyra, she bid Ashara's leave for the evening.

After Ashara left, Lyra poured herself more wine and slowly stepped into the hot bath, adjusting her cold, bare skin to the splendid heat of the water, she began to feel the knots in her body unwind. It was unusual for Lyra to feel so cold in the evenings as Sunspear tended to be very mild during winter; in fact, Lyra could not recall it ever snowing there. The northern part of Dorne, however, was becoming a little too cool for the popular dress style Lyra was wearing.

 _Winter is coming indeed; you always promised me that father._

Finally adjusting to the bath water's temperature, Lyra sat down in the tub and poured vanilla oil into the water and grabbed the soap. Reclining in the bathtub, drinking her wine, Lyra began to contemplate. She never contemplated about her upcoming marriage to the Kingslayer; doing so made her chest tighten, her finger and toes go bluish, and for her to become short of breath. Lyra had this happen ever since she was twelve; the masters told her that it was an unfortunate affliction, but that she had a good chance of overcoming it eventually with age and experience. So instead, Lyra contemplated what it will be like to hold such a high position as Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock.

 _I'll be better than Lady of Winterfell; I'll be **The** Lady Lannister of The most powerful family in all of Westerns. _ Despite Lyra's strong desire to regain her seat in Winterfell, she also knew that being the Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock was a more prestigious position. Despite her disappointment that she may never re-take her father's seat, she couldn't help but to be a little excited about the position of being the future Lady Lannister.

After finishing her bath, Lyra dried herself off and put on the silk robe that Ashara had left her. She shivered a little as a breeze came through the open balcony. Though Yronwood Castle was still in Dorne; Winter _was_ coming and Lyra had heard that beginning in the Fall, the northern part of Dorne begins to chill to the point that the populous starts to wear sleeves. _I'll need to wear my warmer clothes and start wearing gloves and leggings tomorrow._

Lyra sat at the vanity, getting ready for sleep, when she heard arguing outside in the hallway. Immediately, she stopped what she was doing and went over to the door so that she might be better able to hear. _It sounds like Oberyn and Lord Anders Yronwood. I wonder what's wrong._ Quietly opening and closing the door from her chambers to the hallway, Lyra silently padded down the hallway towards the voices, which stopped in Oberyn's quarters.

Silently pressing her ear to the door, Lyra listened intently to the two men argue.

 _Doran has instructed you to maintain a standing army in Boneway since Robb Stark called in his banners, and you felt that it was **irrelevant** that I know about it?! _Said a slightly hushed, but furious voice that sounded like Oberyn's.

 _As I've told you a dozen time before; Prince Doran felt that this information was only an 'as needed to know basis', and he did not believe that you needed to know about the army. He said, 'the less people who know, the better'._ That voice _had_ to be Lord Yronwood's. _Your issue is not with me, Prince Oberyn. I'm only following my prince's orders._

 _Prince's_ _order_ -Oberyn trailed off.

 _Of Fuck_ _!_ Oberyn must have seen Lyra's shadow reflected by the tiles in Oberyn's room. Before she could hear Oberyn walking, Lyra ran as quickly and quietly as she could back to her rooms.

Closing the door to her rooms, Lyra heard a door open out in the hallway, it was Oberyn no doubt. She then heard the door close after a few seconds.

Clutching her chest, Lyra's heart pounded. _Too fucking close_. Regaining her brearings enough so that she could process and think about what she had just heard Lyra was flabbergasted; _if we were politically neutral in the War of the Five Kings until, technically now, then why has Prince Doran ordered a secret standing army on indefinite standby since Robb called in his banner men?_

"I suppose that _Winter is coming,_ father _,"_ Lyra quietly said to herself before turning in for the night.

* * *

 **Author's End Note: Sorry if the story is going pretty slow so far. I have to build things up a bit. The good news is that the next chapter will feature a Jaime and Lyra interaction** **.**

 **BTW: Is Prince Doran a sneak MF or what? :D**


	5. Chapter 5: King's Landing

**Author's Note: We're here! We're finally at King's :anding and we will get out first Lyra/Jaime interaction. By the way, this chapter borrows a lot from season 4 episode 1; Disclaimer: I own nothing related to _Game of Thrones_ or any of Martin's other works.**

 **Happy Reading ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 5: King's Landing

Tyron was waiting with Podrik Payne and Bronn, a man who fiercely denies the fact that they are friends to Tyrion's face; but a man who would do almost anything for Tyrion. As they were waiting outside the gates of King's Landing for the Martell party riding from Dorne, Tyrion mused to himself. _So, my sister has to concede to a girl from High Garden, who has time and time again, manipulated everyone against Cersei. Jaime comes back a week ago, sans his sword hand, and was forced to retire from the King's Guard by King Joffrey._

 _'Oh? Who's death is it that releases a King's Guard from his vows? The King's or your's?'_ The little shit said, echoing his mother's dismissal of Ser Barrister Selmy, sneered to Tyrion's older brother. _Sure, Jaime has given a decent fight against it, but Tywin Lannister always wins in the end._

Jaime tried to argue with Lord Tywin about how there is precedent of 'cripples' serving the King's Guard for life. When that didn't work with Lord Tywin, Jaime told him how he really felt about the matter; "I don't want a wife. I don't want children". This infuriated Lord Tywin even more.

 _It no longer matters!_ Lord Tywin shouted above his son. **_You_** _are my_ _ **son**_ _and only **you** will be heir to Casterly Rock! The King, your nephew, has already issued a Royal Decree stating that you will no longer serve in the King's Guard due to your...deformity. The King himself has deemed that you are **unfit**_ _to serve._ Lord Tywin finished, taking out ink and a quill, Lord Tywin began to write as he spoke to his oldest son. _I **cannot** compel you to marry outside of your wishes, but I will tell you this; your sister married Robert Baratheon despite the fact that she hated everything about the man, **but** **she did it for the good of House Lannister!** Your brother married a girl half his age despite the fact that he did not want to because of her youth, **but he did it for the good of House Lannister**. What have you done for House Lannister thus far? So far, you've done nothing but become a **glorified bodyguard**. You want to help House Lannister? The family? The King? The Realm? Then you can start by marrying Lyra Stark. Marrying her will **effectively and fully** bring Dorne back into the fold and align their interests with House Lannisters. We **need** a re-united Seven Kingdoms in order to __maintain **peace** and to **solidify** a Lannister Dynasty that has the potential to go unchallenged for hundreds of years and in order to do that, we need to quell the rage and animosity between the Lannisters and the Martells; but first, we must tie the Martell's interests with out own, and the best way to quell political problems between houses is through marriage. __Jaime_ , Tywin said, his voice softening, _you **were** a King's Guard, your ability to use a sword has now been taken away. If you want to restore yourself to your former glory, then **this** is what you need to do._

After further protest from Jaime, who soon realized how his protesting was futile, he grabbed his helm and stormed out of the Hand's Solar.

The Martell party had sent a raven two evenings ago after they, presumably, set up camp, that they would be arriving shortly after midday in two days. **And** since Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, and the Sand snakes _all_ want to kill anyone whose last name is Lannister, Lord Tywin and the Royal family probably figured _who better to meet the Martell party than Tyrion._ So there they were, Tyrion, Bronn, and Podd, hoping that the first thing the Martells do is _not kill Tyrion._

* * *

It was about an hour past midday, meaning that Tyrion, Bronn, and Podd had all been waiting for the martell party fora little more three hours, and Bronn's boredom was beginning to show. "How many Dornishmen does it take to fuck a girl?" Born asked, beginning a joke. "Please don't go there", Tyrion irritably responded. "Ah! Here we are!" Tyron exclaimed as he say the first of the Dornish Banners. After about ninety percent of the party walked past Tyrion without seeing a single banner held for House Martell, Tyrion began to worry. Stopping one of the lords near the back of the line, Tyrion began, "Well met, my lords. His Grace King Joffrey welcomes you in his name. My lord father, the King's Hand, sends his greetings as well. I am Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock, Master of Coin" It felt slightly strange for Tyrion to use everyone's formal titles when everyone already knows each other.

Awkward silence. Tyron shifted himself and his eyes uncomfortably before getting to the crux of the reason as to why he was speaking to them.

"Forgive me, but I don't see Prince Doran in your company, nor do I see _any member of House Martell, including Lyra Stark,_ in your company".

The Dornish lord Tyrion was speaking to responded," The Prince's health forces him to remain in Sunspear. He sends Prince Oberyn to take his place in the wedding, and he has his two children representing him in King's Landing"

 _Oh Joffrey will **not** like this at all,_ Tyrion thought to himself as he assured the lord that the King would be honored to have the company of a renowned and famous warrior such as Oberyn Martell.

"Will he?" the Dornish lord mocked.

Changing the subject, Tyrion quickly asked, "And where is Prince Oberyn?"

"Arrived before dawn. Not a man for welcome parties our Prince. As for Lady Lyra. Well. She has her own way of _unwinding_ ".

Tyron has the City Watch escort the Dornishmen to their quarters before setting off to the city to find Prince Oberyn.

* * *

In the King's Wood, Lyra and all seven of the Sand Snakes were out riding, Lyra's way of 'unwinding' and ridding herself of her frustrations. Prince Oberyn and aunt Ellaria said that they were going to see Bearish, but Oberyn winking when they said this, so Lyra was assuming that they were actually going to a brothel ran by the infamous Master of Coin. Princess Arienne went with her guards to take a rest, and Princess Mercella and Prince Trystane went to see the Queen. Princess Mercella was excited to see her mother and brothers again. Lyra was too excited to rest and so were the Sand Snakes so they decided to go exploring. Growing up, Lyra had heard nothing but bad things about King's Landing; how nobody could be trusted, how it's a city full of liars, ect. She did not doubt these rumors for a second, but they had always given her the impression that she would not like anything at all about King's Landing; she couldn't have been more wrong. Lyra _loved_ the hustle and bustle of King's Landing. Sure, Dorne was very diverse due to the fact that most of their commerce came from trade, so they were often exposed to foreign people and their cultures regularly. A man from Braavos visiting Prince Doran once even taught Lyra a few words in High Valerian when she was going through her 'obsessive interest in Valeria' phase.

Lyra shivered a bit on her horse. She and the Sand Snakes had been riding for hours now, but Lyra was still shivering. This flabbergasted her because she had seen women wearing dressed with no sleeves, walking around King's Landing comfortably, as if the breeze didn't bother them. In fact, it seemed to Lyra that some of these women even found the breeze to feel nice. Meanwhile, Lyra was dressed in a long, fitted purple silk tunic with high slits starting at her hips. Sure, the dress had a deep v-neck, but it also had long fitted sleeves with pale pink Dornish Desert Roses embroidered at the ends of the sleeves;Lyra was also wearing dark grey leggings with lighter grey boots, coming up to her knees, which, this time, had thickish three inch heels; to top it all off, Lyra wore her silver gauntlets, loosely braided her hair back, wore her iron circlet, her dire wolf belt, and her Night's Queen. Lyra and the Sand Snakes had agreed that since there would not be a chance that they'd be fighting, all eight women decided to skip their warrior garb; the four older girls just took their weapons-just in case. Despite all of this garb and the fact that King's landing has a mild climate, Lyra was still shivering. _Perhaps I'm just not used to the climate_.

Lyra and the Sand Snakes were rather enjoying themselves. They had not asked permission to roam the King's Wood, _but_ the Sand Snakes being who they are, convinced Lyra to ride in the King's Wood with them anyways. "It's not like we're hunting, which is what Joffrey cares about the most. He couldn't be _fucked_ into caring about eight girls, one of whom is about to become his aunt by marriage, doing nothing but going for a ride. Besides," Nymeria argued, " _we're_ Joffrey's _guests_ ; it's only polite to allow your guests to ride on your land". While Obara was the "the brawn' of the Sand Snakes, Nymeria was "the diplomat"; whenever there was trouble, Nymeria could always talk herself and the Sand Snakes out of it.

* * *

Jaime drank from the flask of wine in his left hand as he crossed the courtyard. Sitting down on a rock, _finally_ , he thought, _solitude_. Jaime's return to King's Landing turned out not to be what he was expecting at all. _Cersei tells me I have come 'too late', refuses me, and tells me that I can no longer serve the King's Guard because I'm a 'cripple'._ Thinking about his new label as 'cripple' in other people's eyes; sure, they may not say it to his face, but Jaime was not stupid, he knew what they were all thinking as they constantly try to steal glances at his new gold hand. Jaime took a rather large drink from the flask of wine at this. _Cersei and my sword...those were the only two things I lived for. Now, Cersei no longer wants me, and my sword hand was taken. I have nothing..._

Taking another rather large swig of wine from the flask, Jaime heard horses galloping towards the courtyard. Looking harder, he recognized these kinds of horses; all eight of them were Dornish Sand Steeds. _Dornishmen?_ As the party got closer, Jaime realized that all eight riders were women, and that they were all racing one another.

All eight women stopping in the courtyard, the smallest of the older women excitedly dismounted and went over to another older woman, who was very elegant looking and wore her hair in a long braid.

"Ha! Beat you sister!" Tyene Sand exclaimed to the other, visibly very irritated Sand Snake.

"You just got lucky _this time_ , **little** **sister** ", Nymeria calmly and coldly responded. She was clearly irritated by the fact that she not only lost a horse race, but she lost to her _little sister_.

Lyra had come in third, followed by Obara and the three youngest Sand Snakes.

Jaime, observed curiously, while sipping his wine. He had once met Obara, a fierce warrior, just like her father. Jaime almost dueled her in a tourney, but given the fact that it was in Storm's End, which did not allow women to compete, he didn't have to. And if he were completely honest with himself, he was glad that he did not have to duel Obara Sand that day. Especially if she were as fierce a warrior as her reputation indicated.

One of the girls, the one called 'Nymeria' suddenly pulled out a whip. Unfolding it, she told the girl called 'Tyene', "You've won round one. How shall you fare in round two?".

Tyene pulled out her daggers and lowered herself into a fighting stance.

Jaime leaned back and made himself comfortable. This was the most entertainment he'd had in months.

"Cousins!" the girl with the iron circlet suddenly said, "I know that we are all competitive here; but we **are** still family, and a strong one at that. Remember the Martell words? 'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken'. Those words, not only do they apply to Dorne and the way the Martells rule Dorne, but they _also_ apply to the Martell _family_."

With that, Tyene and Nymeria raised themselves from their stances and put away their weapons. "Some _other time_ ", Nymeria sighed to Tyene.

As the stable boys came for their horses, the women began to leave; however, before she left, the woman with the circlet on her head stopped and locked eyes with Jaime for a moment. With a thoughtful look on her face; she looked as if she were considering him for a moment. Upon one of her cousin's beckoning, the woman quickly turned and trotted towards where her cousins were walking.

Finishing the flask of wine, Jaime shivered; the woman reminded Jaime of Elia Martell, the Princess he couldn't save. He then thought to himself, _the only female members of House Martell who are around Lyra's age are the Sand Snakes and Princess Arienne; and if I remember correctly what Arienne looks like, none of those women here were her. Also, the one with the circlet, she kept referring to those two other women as 'cousins', and I_ do _know for_ a fact _that there is a woman named Nymeria' who is part of the Sand Snakes_. Jaime smiled to himself as he got up and headed to the kitchens for more wine. _I **do** believe that I may have just informally met my future wife_.

* * *

 **Author's End Note: So, NOW we're starting to get into the heart of the story; from now on, there will be A LOT more Jaime/Lyra moments. So readers, beware of smut and lemons in each upcoming chapter!**

 **As always, constructive criticism is always welcome :D**


	6. Chapter 6: Getting to Know You

**Author's Note: SSSOOOOO, I'm kind of on a roll here so I just kept typing the story away. Enjoy!**

 **Warning: Some angst _and fluff_ :P**

 **Happy Reading ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 6: Getting to Know You

"Ow!" Lyra complained as the seamstress accidentally poked her with a needle. "I'm freezing my _ass_ of too"; which earned a disapproving look from her mother, Meria, but a smirk from Ellaria and Arienne and giggles from the Sand Snakes. Lyra had already been late to see the palace seamstresses to put the final touches on her wedding dress, but when she arrived, the head seamstress told Lyra that she was too dirty for a fitting. So, Lyra went back to her chambers, though tomorrow, they would no longer be _her_ chambers, and had her handmaidens order a bath to be brought up. The King's Landing servants were quick! within ten minutes they were in her room drawing her a bath. Then when the last servant left, Lyra quickly bathed and washed her hair.

Once she was finished in the tub, Lyra got out, quickly dried off, threw on the most hassle-free dress she could find, pulled her hair up into a wet bun, and quickly returned to finish her fitting with the palace seamstresses who were impatiently waiting for her return. The palace seamstresses and Lyra's female relatives were kind enough to await her return, mainly because her wedding was Tomorrow and the fitting _had_ to be completed _today._ After the other women helped strip Lyra, put her into a slip, and lace her rather tightly in a bodice, the head seamstress brought out her dress. Lyra was excited! Like most girls, she had dreamed of her wedding from a very young age, and she had not even seen her own dress yet. Maria's bridal gift to Lyra was that she hired some of the most well known dressmakers who are skilled with Myrish lace and, giving them Lyra's measurements, commissioned them to make Lyra her wedding dress.

Unwrapping the tie that kept the dress safely wrapped up in a large piece of cloth to keep it safe during their two week travel to King's Landing, Lyra gasped. The dress was stunning to say the least! The dress was ivory silk, off the shoulder, and with a sweetheart neckline. It looked as if it nipped in at the waist, then it flared out starting at the hips into a long train. The lace fitted to the silk base of the dress was stitched with something that made Lyra's eyes well up in tears; the seamstresses had somehow managed to stitch Winter Roses into the lace to make up the neckline and the dress's straps, which would go just below Lyra's biceps, all in a silver-looking thread;in addition, on the skirt of the gown, the seamstresses also managed to stitch what appeared to be patterns of frozen ice, scattered in beautiful patterns all over the lace of the skirt in the same silver-looking thread.

Lyra stood on a short stool and let the other women help her put the dress on. When the head seamstress had finished lacing Lyra up into her dress, Tyene gasped and Obara simply said ' ** _Shit!_** '. Worried that her cousins were making sounds of disappointment, Lyra quickly turned around to look at the three floor-length mirrors and gasped; their sounds were not those of disappointment, they were sounds of surprise! Lyra's wedding dress looked fantastic! Letting her tears of joy freely stream down her face, Lyra hugged Meria. "Thank you, Mother", Lyra told Meria, kissing her on her cheek. "I-I only wish that father was here to see it and walk me down the sept tomorrow", she continued, wiping tears from her eyes. Lyra found herself missing her father, Brandon, more and more the longer the were in King's Landing. _The place the Mad king murdered my father and grandfather_ , she thought to herself.

At the seamstress's insistence, Lyra then took off the wedding dress so that she could finish her work. Letting her wet hair down, she quickly grabbed a brush and began to brush all of the kinks out of her hair. Tomorrow was her wedding day and she _did not_ want her hair to dry like it was in a bun. Especially since the Martells would be having supper with the Lannisters and the Royal family tonight. A sort of "pre-wedding" meal. At this, Lyra grabbed a goblet and poured herself wine; this was going to be boring and she didn't want to spend it sober.

* * *

Their meal had been fairly uneventful, as was usual when Lyra and Jaime were forced to interact. However, Lyra was happy that she had been finally allowed to interact with her cousin, Sansa. Lyra supposed the reason why she was able to _finally_ spend a little time with her cousin was because she was marrying Jaime tomorrow and the Lannisters weren't going to be so finicky about the two of them talking more privately since both girls would soon be married into the same house. It made Lyra happy that she could cheer Sansa up a little bit, even if the only comfort Lyra could provide was a familiar face. She made a note to herself to invite Sansa to tea and to generally spend more time with her cousin once the wedding was over and done with. Maybe she could even talk Jaime into letting Sansa and Tyrion come to the Rock with them, when she mentioned this to her cousin, her face lit up a little; and when Lyra saw Joffrey give Sansa a leering look that made her stomach turn, Lyra began to understand why. Since Lyra had the power to lessen her sweet cousin's misery, she felt it was her responsibility to do so, especially since Sansa clearly had no power to effectively help herself.

Later that night, Lyra's pre-wedding jitters hit, and she found herself unable to sleep. Meria asked Grand Maester Pycell to concoct a sleeping drought for Lyra, which _was_ brought right away; apparently, The Queen Regent also often has difficulty sleeping so the Grand Maester always had a batch ready for her at a moment's notice. After returning to her chambers with the drought, Lyra dismissed her handmaidens for the evening. "Get _plenty_ of rest, please! We have a big day tomorrow!" she told them as they left. Shutting the door behind them, Lyra put the sleeping draught on her nightstand and left her chambers for the kitchens for a little food and wine.

Arriving at the kitchens, Lyra was glad that she did not run into anyone on her way there. It was getting relatively late and tomorrow was a big day for everyone residing in the castle; a Lannister marrying a Stark, who was raised among Martells no less, is no small occasion! everyone in the the castle was generally asleep or relaxing in their courters. Looking for where the servants stored the wine, Lyra felt a shiver down her spine as the kitchens were eerily quiet and empty. Though she was sure that they would be busy in a few hours, having to get up long before the rest of the castle to prepare the wedding feast. As Lyra crept through the kitchens, she didn't know why, _perhaps it's the murdery atmosphere_ , but she couldn't feel relaxed. After looking past a few corners, she finally found the wine, and mainly Dornish red wine at that; Lyra's favorite.

Grabbing a clean pitcher, Lyra poured herself enough red wine to fill half of the pitcher. Going back to get a clean goblet to put her freshly acquired red wine into, she set the pitcher down on the table and suddenly felt a little panic wash over her. Lyra was thinking about heading back to her chambers to get herself ready for bed and relax to help calm her nerves, when she suddenly bumped into a solid, dark figure. Lyra sucked in breathe to scream, but before she could scream, a hand strongly covered her mouth and another hand gripped her throat. The dark figure pushed her so hard that Lyra ended up with her back against the wall.

"SSSHHHHHshhhhhsssshhhhh! It's me! It's Ser Jaime Lannister! No need to scream!," Jaime whispered as quietly as he could. Letting go of the dark female figure's mouth and throat, Jaime apologized. "I'm terribly sorry for grabbing your throat like that. I...I tend to do somethings that I shouldn't do sometimes since I...since I got back".

Lyra used the wall she was backed up against for leverage to help herself back up. Coughing and choking from getting her windpipe squeezed, she got herself a goblet and poured herself some wine. Taking a small sip first, to help with her coughing, she then took a larger drink; mostly to calm her nerves as her heart was beating like a hummingbird's wings, and also because the cool wine soothed her aching throat. Regaining her bearings and her eyes adjusted to the dark, Lyra realized that, indeed, she had just run right into The Kingslayer.

Mortified, Lyra immediately started apologizing to her betrothed. "I'm terribly sorry Ser, it's just that it's so dark in here that-"

Jaime interrupted Lyra, "Interesting..." Trailing off, he began to walk towards the servants' table, who's candelabra was the sole source of light in the kitchen.

Quickly going from mortified to indignant, Lyra grabbed her pitcher of red wine and goblet and followed him. _Interesting? Thats **all** he has to say?!_ Sitting down at the table with him, he offers to pour her more wine calling her 'my Lady', which Lyra accepts with an, "if you insist _Ser_?" Jaime and Lyra, each drinking their wine in silence, thinking, until Jaime broke it.

"So my father actually expects the fighting between Houses Lannister and Martell to be solved in just one single wedding". Jaime raised his glass, "here, here to the genius of Tywin Lannister", Jaime said, mockingly and slightly slurring, before drinking.

Lyra raised her glass as well, and she too mockingly drank to the toast to Tywin Lannister. The man responsible for the deaths of innocents. _Ellia, Rhaenys, Aegon...you deserved better_. Lyra chastised herself silently as she felt tears prick her eyes again. Drying her tears, something Jaime had just said suddenly hit her. " _Martell?"_ She questioned him, "I think that you're forgetting the fact that I'm a _Stark_ **_not a Martell_** ".

"Where were you born?" Jaime questioned her.

"Sunspear, but my father-"

"Where were you raised?"

"Sunspear..."

"How often do you visit your _homeland_?"

"Once a year, every year since I was little. For a month..."

"And how well do you know the Northmen? Have you even seen or spoken to all of the noble families of the North?"

"..." he got her there.

Raising his goblet to Lyra, Jaime said, "I'm sorry my Lady: you may have your father's last name; but you are a Martell". He finished this, smiling, and taking a rather large drink of wine.

All this talk of the North...the wedding. Brandon Stark would never be there to walk her down the Sept of Baelor. Staring down into her glass, the effects of the alcohol taking hold and making Lyra emotional, Lyra's vision watered. Tears dropped down into her goblet and on her hand. She heard herself involuntarily let out a small choke. She was angry at herself for crying over her father. He's been dead for years and she barely knew him. So why did she feel such heartbreaking loss?

Jaime, thinking that perhaps he had been too harsh, felt guilty and tried to comfort Lyra. Getting up from the bench of the table, Jaime held Lyra and wipped the tears from her face. The lighting was not very good, but Jaime found her to be quite pretty. Despite her small breasts, her body was slender and elegantly built, and Jaime could feel a deep curve in her waist when his left hand was, holding her. Olive skin, yet fair, thick soft brown-black hair, and dark eyes accentuated beautifully with kohl liner shaping her eyes as a wolf's, all making her skin look fairer than she was; Jaime Lannister found the crying maid in his arms to be quite the beauty, and, despite himself, he _did_ want her. _Especially_ after not having been with Cersei in _quite_ some time.

Wipping tears from Lyra's face, Jaime was able to get a good look at her. She was so emotionally vulnerable right now. _I_ was _too harsh_. Not being good at comforting crying women and wanting Lyra to know that he wasn't rejecting her as his betrothed, Jaime did the only thing he knew to do. Gently grabbing the back of Lyra's neck and the small of her back, Jaime kissed her. Nothing too erotic; just an open mouthed, lingering kiss as he held her close to him.

Lyra, being inexperienced and not expecting this, unconsciously leaned into Jaime, and reaching up, she gently put her fingers through his soft golden hair. Moaning into Jaime's kiss, Lyra felt an unfamiliar wetness between her legs and a strange, but pleasurable tingling sensation between her legs. Getting more into the kiss, Lyra allowed her hands to roam his chest and back, eliciting moans of pleasure from Jaime.

Breaking the kiss and pulling away from her, Jaime said breathlessly to Lyra, "you should get some sleep".

Lyra, still able to feel her lips swollen from their kiss, was breathless and her head was foggy. So, without a word, Lyra grabbed her pitcher and goblet and left.

* * *

 **Author's End Note: Constructive reviews welcomed as always!**

 **BTW: There's going to be a lemon in the next** **chapter. Just a warning ;P**


	7. Chapter 7: The Lion Weds the Wolf

**Author's Note: Sooooo THIS chapter has a lemon in it (** ** _TRIGGER WARNING)_**

 **Also, Lyra and Jaime's wedding is finally here!**

 **Happy Reading ^-^**

* * *

Chapter 7: The Lion Weds The Wolf

Lyra awoke in her dim room. Looking to the side at the window, she could see the sky turning from blue-purple to a burnt orange as the sun was rising. _Phew, not time to get out of bed yet._ Laying back down and closing her eyes, Lyra bolted upright. Oh NO! She had completely forgotten; today, this day, was to be her Wedding Day. The day she had been dreaming about with her female cousins since they were little children. Laying back down, Lyra smiled to herself. Of course, she was so nervous about today's nuptials, and the fact that she was marrying Jaime Lannister, to the point that she was hardly able to bear it. After she is wed in the Sept of Baelor, she will be a Lannister, and not _just_ a Lannister; Lyra was going to be **_The_** _Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock_. Thinking about this fact and all of the heavy burdens and responsibilities that came along with that title, alone, made her stomach feel like it was about to drop to her butt; not to mention the social expectations and burdens that come with being married to _The Kingslayer_. Lyra lay back down in her bed, starring at the canopy, she became lost in thought about today's upcoming events. Suddenly, she felt her extremities tingle and become cold, her chest tightened and it started becoming difficult to breathe. _Just slow your breathing Lyra, and try thinking about something that makes you smile or laugh. The maester has assured you that this is all nothing but anxiety. You will not die._ Focusing on her breathing and closing her eyes, Lyra felt the debilitating panic slowly dissipate.

When her room was completely lit by the gentle light of the morning sun, Lyra got out of bed and started getting ready for her wedding. She also thought that focusing on getting ready would help with her nerves. Retrieving a goblet, she then poured herself some wine. Sipping on her wine, Lyra began to set everything out that she would be needing for the day. After laying her wedding gown out, her handmaidens finally arrived with Ellaria, surprisingly, trailing behind them with a tray in her hands.

Leaving her handmaidens to their task of getting Lyra a bath drawn, she crossed the room over to Ellaria.

"Aunt!", Lyra kissed Ellaria on both cheeks, "What are you doing here? And what is that in your hands?"

"Come now, did you really think that I would let my own niece go to her marriage bed unprepared?"

Lyra blushed at this, thinking of the kiss herself and Jaime had shared last night, and of how that kiss made her tingle and moist between her legs.

"Let us sit", Ellaria said as she poured herself a goblet of wine, then taking the bottle with her. "Believe me, you will be wanting more of this soon", she pointed to the bottle.

The two women sat down at the table. Taking a long sip of her wine, Ellaria started, "Lyra, have you...ever been bedded before? Or even remotely close to that?" Lyra furiously shook her head. "Okay then, I think that we need to have a talk. A talk I believe that you would rather have with me than Meria". Lyra shakily lifted the goblet to her lips. When she set it back down, Ellaria gently took her hand. "Lyra, you have _nothing_ to fear about being bedded tonight." Blushing, Lyra thought _She's right, I WOULD rather have this discussion with anyone but my own mother_. "I have been bedded many times, and I assure you, that if anything, you will find great pleasure in such an intimately passionate act. However, I _do_ remember my first time; it hurt, a lot, but only at first. After the pain subsided though, I felt nothing but tremendous pleasure, which ended with even _more_ pleasure. Though _this_ pleasure experienced at the end was a feeling foreign to me at the time; now, it is...something I _v_ _ery much_ look forward to when I am being bedded." Lyra nodded and took another sip. Ell aria's words of encouragement _did_ make her feel less fearful.

One of the handmaidens came to the table, her name was Tia, she was Stoney Dornish; thus she had light brown hair, fair freckled skin, and grey eyes. Smiling sweetly, Tia told Lyra, "Your bath is ready m'lady."

Ellaria looked at Lyra, "You should get going. You will be saying your vows to The Kingslayer, I mean, Jaime Lannister, in only a few hours, and I do not think that you want to keep him waiting", saying the last sentence with mirth in her voice.

* * *

Tyrion was breaking his fast in the garden with his brother, Jaime. Tyrion had missed his big brother dearly during his captivity, but, also, it was only a good brother's duty to give Jaime a bit of a 'pep talk' about one of the most nerve-racking, but important days in one's life. For now though, Jaime was late so Tyrion sipped on a goblet of water as he waited for his arrival. Tyrion was terribly hung over from last night and so had a terrible thirst for water.

When Jaime finally walked in, he looked terribly hungover as well. Podrick Payne, Tyrion's a-little-old-to-be-a-squire (bless him), came over to give Jaime a plate and a goblet. When he came over to pour the water into Jaime's goblet, Jaime lightly banged his gold hand on the jug. "No water", he then gave his plate back to Podrick, "no food. Only wine".

"Ar-are yo-you sure my lord?"

"Does Robyn Arryn still nurse at Lysa's teet despite being over the age of five? Of course I'm sure." Jaime actually felt a little sorry for his words to poor Pod as the lad scurried away to bring him his wine. He _did_ save his brother's life against a member of the Kingsguard, no less, who was trying to assassinate him on probably his monster of a son's orders.

"A wee cranky today, are we brother." Tyrion wasn't asking a question; it was a statement.

"Ran in to Lyra Stark last night."

Tyrion, brightening at this, asked, "Annnddd?"

"I was drunk...said some things to her that I shouldn't have...she started crying...I-I just...I just didn't know what to do. So, I kissed her...I didn't mean to. I was just _loosing my mind_ ", he said with sadness and frustration, looking at his golden hand.

"And _then?"_

"And? And then what?" Jaime asked his brother with a quizzical look.

" _What happened after you kissed her? Did she kiss you back? Did you like it? Did she like it? Did you two go any...further?"_

"No, when we broke away she didn't say a word. She just took her glass and her jug of wine and scurried away. I just sat at the table and drank all night."

"Interesting", Tyrion mused, "From what I've heard of her and from what I've observed in the past twenty four hours, she doesn't strike me as someone who would ever be speechless. Did you at least _like_ kissing her?"

Jaime looked hard at Tyrion, lost in thought. Wonderful memories of his and Cerise's union, the memories that kept him hanging on to life and helped him endure being the prisoner of Robb Stark; now, those memories only brought him pain. _You were too late. That's how she ended it._ "Lyra is a beautiful woman with a beautiful face and body despite how small her tits are". Jaime thanked Podrick when he came with Jaime's wine. Taking a large gulp, he added, "I got up pretty close to her and held her against me".

" _So_ , there _was more",_ Tyrion teased.

Jaime sighed and finished his wine. Podrick refilled it. "Holding her against me does **not** mean **anything** ".

"Yes, but you chose to kiss her in _quite a passionate way_ ".

"I haven't been with...a woman in over a year. Don't judge me." Jaime finished his second glass of wine. When Podrick finished re-filling it, Jaime grabbed the lads arm, "Leave it".

"Ser?"

"Leave the whole damn thing. I _do not_ plan to spend this day sober."

Tyrion could only stare at Jaime with shock. "Brother! And here I was going about the Seven Kingdoms wearing the badge of the family drunk". He said this with feigned hurt. Taking a more serious tone, he grabbed Jaime's forearm comfortingly, "I know it's been hard Jaime, and our sister isn't making it any easier on you. Nor our father. From what I hear and seen, Lyra is a nice lady and who knows, you may actually grow to like her. You can have more than one love in your life you know."

* * *

Lyra fidgeted with her bouquet in nervousness outside of the Sept of Baelor. Her uncle came to her side, "You ready for this?"

"Honestly? No. Not really."

Oberyn then handed her a vile. "Ellaria wanted me to give this to you," he whispered. "She says to drink _all_ of it after the feast, no matter how awful it tastes, and the bedding will be easier for you".

Turning her back to Oberyn to hide the vile in her corset, she heard the door open. "Everyone's ready and in place Prince Oberyn", a voice said.

Jaime stood in the grooms spot next to The Father, waiting for his bride, and tipsy. The whole thing felt like a cruel cosmic joke to him. His father was looking at him, victoriously, now that he has his heir back. Cersei was savoring a smug smile, _Tell me brother, how does it feel to be sold off for breeding? just as I was to Robert. She's not wrong_ , Jaime thought to himself, _Without my_ _sword hand, I'm just a cripple. A cripple who's now only good for breeding_.

The doors opening, Lyra walked towards Jaime in silk and Mhyrish lace. The bride was lovely. She was accompanied by Prince Oberyn, who was to give her away in Prince Doran's stead. Lyra had forgone the tradition of styling her hair; instead, she stubbornly insisted on having it long and loose. Meria, exasperated, relented, and brought out several thin silver ribbons, which she weaved through her hair, and a dozen very small red stones on pins, which she pinned on to Lyra's hair. After fluffing Lyra's thick hair a bit at her crown, and observing her work with Lyra's hair, Meria was satisfied. The silver and red glinted beautifully in her long flowing hair.

As Oberyn and Lyra passed the King, she looked at the Queen Regent who held an expression that confused Lyra. _What is she thinking about?_ When they reached the steps to the High Septon and Jaime, the Septon spoke, "you may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection". Oberyn did his part, he took her Stark cloak off, Lyra looked at him quizzically as she could see sadness and anger in his eyes. She did her part, she then climbed the steps and took her place next to Jaime. Next to the statue of The Mother. Lyra turned around so that Jaime could cloak her with the crimson Lannister cloak, signifying that she is now under his protection. Jaime did his part; he cloaked her, albeit with some trouble due to his gold hand. This earned some giggles and small laughter among the audience as he struggled. Tywin turned around with a cold stare and all of them fell sober and silent.

Finally getting the cloak on Lyra, the septon continued, looking at the audience. "Your grace, your grace, my lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of God and Men to witness the Union of Man and Wife." The septon pulled out the white ribbon, bringing Lyra and Jaime's hands together, he wrapped the ribbon around their hands as he recited the words. "One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

* * *

The feast went well enough. The food was good and since they had brought a lot of ingredients from Dorne, Lyra got to have some of her favorite dishes. However, as much as she liked them, her stomach was still in knots, making it difficult to eat. So, Lyra ended up taking smaller bites and drinking mostly wine. She looked at Jaime, who had not spoken a word to her all evening, and even avoided her gaze. Bored and irritated with Jaime for not speaking to her, she went to walk around and mingle, bringing her wine with her.

Many lords and ladies congratulated Lyra on her marriage. Many of whom Lyra did not know, unless they were from Dorne, but she did know a couple of them from her visits to Highgarden. Lyra looked over at Jaime who had finally gotten up and was currently speaking to his sister in the corner. They were close and it appeared that they were speaking in hushed tones. They seemed to be arguing. Remembering the vile and Elaria's instructions, Lyra quickly fled to an empty corridor and dug the vile out of her corset. The liquid was dark and there seemed to be some ground up herbs in it. Opening it hesitantly, Lyra took a deep breath and gulped all of the vile's contents in one go. Nearly gagging from the awful after taste, she chugged her wine. Hiding the vile in a pot, Lyra couldn't help but to be a little disappointed. _What is this supposed to do actually? I don't feel any different_. About to leave to refill her goblet, Lyra almost walked into her husband.

"Forgive me my lord, I fear I may have drank too much", Lyra slightly slurred out in mirth.

"Not to worry, I fear that I may have as well", he said this with a small smile. He the offered her his arm, "I believe it is expected for the married couple to start the first dance". Lyra took his arm, smiling. As Jaime led her to the dance floor, she put her goblet on a table. Lyra took his shoulder and left hand, while Jaime pressed his golden hand on the small of her back. The music turned slower and more romantic. As they danced, other couples began to join in. Including Margery and Joffrey, who apparently was not so light on his feet but had been charmed into it by his betrothed. Lyra laughed her first genuine laugh all evening, quietly laughing into Jaime's shoulder.

"What is so funny?" Jaime quietly asked, smiling.

Lyra shook her head as she tried to stifle her laughter, "it seems the King is not much of a dancer. Poor Margery, she loves her dancing".

Laughing, Jaime touched her face with his good hand, "I'm glad to see that you are finally enjoying yourself. It's your wedding; you _should_ be smiling and laughing."

"It's _our wedding_ ", she corrected him. "which means that you should be attempting to do the same _my lord_ ".

"I suppose you're right", he said as he twirled her.

Lyra's jovial face suddenly fell. There was something she was dying to know since last night. "Why did you kiss me? Last night I mean".

Jaime looked surprised at her abrupt question, but he quickly recovered himself. "I-I honestly don't know. I guess I had been harsh and didn't know how else to comfort you".

"Mmmmm. It was nice," the words tumbled out of Lyra's mouth like a pur before she could even think. _What is wrong with me?_

However, Jaime found this flattering and he ate it up. Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, "Is that a pleasure my lady would like repeated?" Jaime felt his lust for Lyra beginning to grow. At first, she had blushed at his words, but then leaning back, the way she looked at him; it was _desire_. As much as Jaime hated to admit it, he _did_ find Lyra to be quite attractive, and by the looks of Lyra, she was quite attracted to him as well. _Maybe this bedding won't be so difficult after all_. Suddenly, Jaime lay a gentle, chaste kiss on Lyra's lips, which illicited another put out of her. Then, Loras Tyrell cut in as the beat of the music sped up. Jaime bowed out, but not before kissing Lyra on her hand, telling her that he would see her later tonight.

Jaime watched as his wife danced and chatted with Loras Tyrell and couldn't help but for a bite of hate for the poor man who was about to marry his sister and take her away from him. Despite the fact that Cersei no longer wanted their relationship to continue, Jaime was still very much in love with her.

"Her hair is a little dark, but her father had grey eyes. Perhaps your heirs will at least have Lannister eyes", Tywin suddenly interrupted Jaime's thoughts. "Speaking of which; the two of you have made vows and have done all of your wedding duties except for the final one." Tywin said so forbiddingly.

 _"You would have me go through the humiliation of having myself and my wife stripped in front of the entire court?"_

"Your sister went through it, and so did I, your mother, and every other married Lannister. It does not suit my heir to be disgusted and worried over such a common _tradition"._

Jaime looked over at Lyra. _Please don't turn out to still be a maiden_. Jaime had often heard about how much some men hated bedding virgins due to all of the initial crying. It kills the mood. And Jaime didn't think he was the type of man to have the patience for all of that. Much to his horror, he then saw Joffrey silencing the room. He was about to make an announcement.

"My Lords and Ladies! My uncle and aunt have been wedded! Now, it is time that they were bedded! Please, help them with their clothes, they won't be needing them any longer!"

Terror struck through Lyra like lightning, she'd forgotten about the Bedding Ceremony. Lyra was lifted off her feet, her shoes slipping off, she saw men leering at her. Looking down, she saw that it was Oberyn who had lifted her, which made her grateful. Hands started stripping her of her clothes as her entourage walked towards Jaime's chamber. Hands eagerly unlacing her dress, then her corset, eventually, Lyra was stripped completely nude, save for her jewelry and hair ornaments. Arriving to their destination, Oberyn put Lyra down, and kissed her on her forehead. Looking at her sadly, he gave her the advice to "try and enjoy it" before opening the door and giving her a small push into Jaime's chambers.

Lyra looked around, it seemed that she had arrived before Jaime. Lyra saw the jug of wine and a couple of goblets on a table in the lounge area near the fireplace. _I don't think he'll mind_. She poured herself a glass and sat in a chair, waiting for Jaime as she sipped her wine. Strangely, Lyra found that she wasn't nervous about the bedding anymore; instead, she was actually kind of excited. She could feel the strange tingling between her legs and her nipples grow hard at the thought of it.

Jaime finally arrived to his chambers to find Lyra looking about the fireplace with a goblet in her hand. He couldn't help but to stare at her, she looked stunning in the soft lighting. The jewels and ribbons in her long, loose hair making her look almost ethereal, especially with her deep hair and milky skin. Staring at the deep curve in her waist and her slim yet curved hips, he wanted to see the front view too.

Lyra's attention was everted from the lion decoration over the fireplace when she heard the clinking of Jaime pouring himself wine. Lyra could only stare at his golden naked body, speechless. Despite the fact that her husband was twice her age, there was no denying that Jaime Lannister was _still_ quite possibly the most handsome man Lyra had ever seen. She started feeling a lot of heat in her lower belly. _Why have I suddenly become so wanton?_

Lyra walked over to Jaime, her curvy hips slightly swaying and long slim legs. There was no hiding his erection, which he saw her briefly glance at before she took a deep drink of wine. "I hope yours wasn't too horrible", he slightly joked.

"No", she replied smiling. Jaime was currently staring at her slightly rounded, perky small breasts _with deliciously erect nipples_ , he thought. "Oberyn was kind enough to lead me here. I'm certain it was so he could prevent the men of the court from taking...liberties". Jaime drank deeply as she was only inches away. He gasped as she gently grabbed his cock and began to stroke him slowly.

"It's okay", she assured him as she put her goblet down, "I may be a virgin, but I _do kind of_ have an idea as to what to do. I _am_ _Dornish_ after all". She said this last sentence in a whisper in Jaime's ear. Jaime sorely missed Cersei at this moment; in a way, this will be a first time for Jaime as well. He's always been faithful to Cersei, something she unfortunately could never return.

Wanting to get lost in the body of the girl standing before him so that he could both perform his duty to get children onto his wife and forget about his pain over Cersei, he grabbed her hand from his cock and kissed her passionately. Hands, flesh and gold, roamed over her body. He wanted to feel everything; her hair, her nipples, her small perky breasts, her round ass, even her face. She moaned rather loudly when he took two fingers and rubbed them between her moist virgin lips and forced his tongue into her mouth. Without saying a word and without breaking their kiss, Lyra wrapped her legs around Jaime's waist as he picked her up and put her down on the bed.

Climbing on top of her, Jaime began sucking on one of Lyra's hard nipples. Eliciting a moan from her when he flicked it with his tongue. She gasped at the cold contact of his gold hand on her slim belly as he put his left hand between her legs. Jaime was so hard, he could barely stand it. Feeling _so_ much wetness between Lyra's legs sent him over the edge.

Positioning himself, he spread Lyra's legs, and impaled her. Lyra let out a shriek of pain as her virgin walls were painfully stretched for the first time, but she was _not_ about to scream or shriek again; the court would be laughing at her for weeks. She managed to bring it down to a whimpers of pain, turned her head, and closed her eyes tightly.

Jaime leaned down, resting his weight on his elbows, turned Lyra's head towards him. "Lyra. Lyra, open your eyes". She opened her eyes. "I want you to look at me. The pain will subside, just give it a moment, and I promise you that it will feel good". Lyra nodded, and Jaime tried to ease her pain faster. Kissing her throat and rubbing her clit gently, her whimpers soon turned into purs of pleasure.

 _Oh my GODS this_ is _amazing_ , was all Lyra could think. Her purs began to turn into moans when Jaime began to thrust.

 _Fuck 'er good Jaime!_

 _Let's hear the Lone Wolf's best howl!_

Lyra was incredibly embarrassed at the inappropriate comments, but this was soon put to the back of her mind as Jaime sped up and she felt a powerful, pleasurable feeling in her legs. A foreign but incredible feeling. A feeling that became to strong to bear when Jaime but his left hand between them and rubbed her sensitive nub. The feeling became so strong that she finally snapped. To her horror, she caught herself moaning out Jaime's name, and then her vision went black. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she closed her eyes when she got too heady. Jaime sped up his pace considerably and shortly followed her, letting out a loud moan of relief upon finishing.

It took her a minute or two to recover from her first orgasm with a man. Jaime was lying next to her, a sheen of sweat all over him, all over both of them. His eyes were closed and his arm was covering them. Lyra shifted over to him and pulled his arm down, gently holding it as she put her head on his chest and closed her eyes, sleep beginning to take her. Jaime was surprised at the gesture, but he supposed that she was probably feeling emotionally vulnerable and was in need of comfort. To be honest, so was Jaime, but for different reasons. Reasons that he really didn't want to think about in his post coital afterglow. Relenting, he wrapped his arms around his sleeping, sweet wife and kissed her on her head and stroked her thick, soft hair, it was comforting to them both as they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Whew! THAT was a really long chapter! I'm sorry if the writing is a bit off. I plan to make some corrections to this chapter later. I just REALLY wanted to get it posted because it took me two days to write and I love writing lemons!**

 **Reviews would be much appreciated, Please! ^_^**


	8. Chapter 8: A Storm is Brewing

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! I've been on vacation for a while and I just didn't feel like writing. I kind of wanted to take a break and not have to write for a bit.**

 **I know that my timeline is a bit off and that it's hard to gauge when everything takes place. So, occasionally update about where the story is in relation to the series; but not all of the events will follow the series. This chapter is quite close the middle of season 3. Sansa and Tyrion are married but haven't been for very long. I forgot to mention that this story operates under the assumption that Jaime successfully escscaped in season 2, but that he still ran into Vargo Hoat and the bloody mummers.**

 **Updated: Well, this didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would, so I _should_ have the new chapter written by Tuesday of next week!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 8: A Storm is Brewing

Lyra awoke. Her head on something harder than a pillow, she realized that she must have fallen asleep on Jaime, who still had his left hand in her hair. Initially disoriented from last night, this quickly began to fade away as she slowly re-adjusted to her surroundings after waking from her sleep induced by the wine and _whatever the Seven Hells Ellaria_ had given her last night. Despite the fact that being bedded was relatively painless, Lyra did not particularly care for the side effects of the herby drink. Looking down at Jaime, Lyra thought about her conduct last night and felt her face heat with nagging embarrassment. _I bedded a complete stranger last night as if it were nothing! I must seem so wanton!_ Lyra chastised herself.

Slowly pulling Jaime's hand out of her hair, as to try and not wake him, and began to pull the trinkets out of her hair. Wanting to pull her clothes on and break her fast, Lyra began to get out of bed. _Shit_ _. I'm not in my chambers_ , this thought had her climbing back into bed and pulling the sheet up to her chest. Looking over at Jaime, she noticed how peaceful his face was. _To imagine this man killed the Mad King_. Pushing his short hair back, she began to realize how little interaction they had before the wedding, and how formal it all was. Last night was the only informal interaction they'd had so far, and it had relieved Lyra to know that he, at least, was not as indifferent to her as he had initially seemed. _Though I suppose that I'm not exactly innocent myself. I **did** respond with some indifference myself._ Lyra began to feel a little guilty for getting angry with him last night. Jaime had so far been very kind to her. _Perhaps he felt a lot like I did about this_ marriage. Lyra had initially been nervous about her marriage and the prospect that she would be spending the remainder of her life with a man who was old enough to be her father, which Nymeria had teased her about relentlessly on their way to the Crownlands.

"As your husband, I must tell you; you think far too much." A voice spoke as Lyra felt an arm around her waist.

Lyra replied, " Really? Perhaps you should take my mind off of what it was I was thinking about."

Jaime smiled at her words. " As my lady asks." He leaned towards her and captured her lips at this.

Not expecting him to take her words that way, Lyra let out a small squeak in surprise, but she quickly recovered from this and began to try following his mouth with hers. She had been kissed before, but none was ever like _this_.

"Lyra..." Jaime whispered in her ear. "May I?"

Lyra moaned when she began to feel the throb of arousal at this; she knew what he was asking her and she very much wanted a repeat of last night. Wrapping her legs around his waist obligingly, he slowly entered her. Wincing at the pain as her tissues were still sore from last night.

Jaime had learned with Lyra that she appreciated being asked if he could do something to her before he actually did. Though she would let him touch her without permission, as was her duty to him, he found that she responded more positively when he did.

Pain subsiding, Lyra's hips began to unconsciously respond as he slowly rocked in and out of her slick warmth. When he put his good hand between her legs and rubbed her in her pleasure spot, she began to feel that wonderful sensation from the previous night. She couldn't help the rather loud moan that escaped from her lips when she felt the pressure break and the muscles low in her belly spasm. Jaime didn't take much longer to follow her.

Lyra was still dazed when Jaime slowly pulled himself out of her and laid back next to her. Recovering from this, she hesitantly put her head on his chest and her mocha eyes met his green emerald eyes. "Thank you, for being so kind and considerate to me. You've been... so wonderful." This was Lyra's way of saying that she was sorry for her previous indifference towards him.

She felt Jaime's hand on the small of her back. "No need to thank me my lady," he responded, quietly. Jaime felt a little guilty; he found himself beginning to grow fond of his wife, but he didn't think that he could love her.

* * *

Cersei was in the Main Dinning Hall breaking her fast, albeit _with_ wine. She had gone to bed drunk last night and the Queen Regent did not plan on achieving sobriety today, at least. _Just a little tipsy to take the edge off_ , she kept telling herself in an attempt to justify drinking so early. She initially thought that she wouldn't care about her brother's marriage, but she soon found that despite everything, it infuriated her.

To everyone in the court, except for those in the Royal family, Jaime was released from his vows in order to marry Lyra Stark. A girl who, supposedly, had touched Jaime's heart as he recovered in the Red Keep. Cersei had a private laugh at this.

Of course. Just as Cersei began to eat, her brother, _The Imp_ , Tyrion, walked in. "Good morning sweet sister!" Tyrion beamed at Cersei as he took a seat at the table and began to pile food onto his plate. Cersei, visibly annoyed with Tyrion's presence this early in the day, swore that the only reason why he was so _cheerful_ towards her in the morning was _just_ to annoy her.

"So," Tryion added, "never thought we would see the day when Jaime married". He tried to converse with Cersei good-naturedly.

"Please, it was only a matter of time before father had his way," Cersei answered her brother. Tywin Lannister was a man who was hard to defy, or even just to say no to. As soon as he realized that Jaime had escaped, coming back without his sword hand, and then Prince Doran's proposal to marry his niece to Jaime; Tywin could not resist telling Cersei to have Joffrey release Jaime from his vows and restore his rights in order to marry the girl. Of course, Tywin knew that this was Joffrey's prerogative, but he knew how to manipulate the king into doing so. As always, Lord Tywin always got what he wanted. "Our lord father usually _does_ end up getting his way."

"Bitter, are we?" Tyrion said with a curious grin.

Cersei stopped eating to glare at her brother. She knew that statement had a veiled meaning about her and Jaime. "No."

* * *

Shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair, Jaime patiently waited for Tywin to finish writing in the Hand's solar.

"Have you and your bride been getting along?" Tywin asked his oldest son.

"I'd say we're off to a fairly good start. Lyra tends to take a lot after her aunt, Elia Martell", Jaime replied dryly. It was as if he could never get away from his failure to protect the deceased Princess Eilia.

"Oberyn is none too pleased about this marriage", Tywin stated flatly.

Jaime got up and walked to the wine. Being grilled by Tywin Lannister usually required a bit of wine. "That doesn't surprise me. He had been _quite_ irritated last night; he cornered me in a hallway and asked if I intended to protect his niece as poorly as I did his sister."

Tywin let out a small, irritated sigh, he continued; "I tell you this because you should still be weary of House Martell. Prince Doran may have brokered this marriage with me, but even _he_ cannot be completely trusted. Oberyn and his bastard daughters especially cannot be trusted, and you must remain very cautious when dealing with them."

Jaime nodded in agreement with his father's statement about House Martell. "I agree".

"Which is why I want Lyra away from House Martell as soon as possible. So, after King Joffrey's wedding To Margery Tyrell, I want you and her to leave for the Rock, and you are to take Tyrion and his wife, Sansa, with you. They are causing your sister and your eldest nephew to become too distracted."

* * *

 **AN: Here's the final product!**

 **As always, I'd happily listen to everyone's 2 cents; however, flaming will be deleted.**


	9. Chapter 9: The Spar

Chapter 9: The Spar

 **Author's Note: Thank you anon for your thoughtful review!**

 **I did as much research as I could about the bedding ceremony and could not find all that much. Since a lot of authors like to use seven nights for the ladies in their husband's bed, I decided to follow that trend for uniformity's sake.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 9: The Spar

Not long after Jaime had gotten dressed and left to see his father, there was a knock on the door. Climbing back in bed and feeling horrified at her nudity, Lyra quickly answered: "I-I'm not dressed!"

"It's Ashara my lady", said a voice with a thick Dornish accent on the other side.

"Come in Ashara".

With Lyra's permission, the door opened and her handmaiden walked in carrying a robe and a gown.

"Thank you so much Ashara!" Lyra exclaimed; she was glad to see a piece of clothing to hide her nudity.

Helping her lady get dressed, Ashara asked her with a wink, "How was your first of seven nights with your new husband?"

Lyra inwardly goaned, she had forgotten the tradition of seven nights she had to spend in her husband's bed. Six more nights she had to spend in Jaime's bed; six more nights she couldn't be in the comfort of her own bed. Though she knew that the tradition was meant to insure that the wedding was consummated and she'd be with child as soon as possible; it was still an uncomfortable tradition.

 _I'll have to ask Grand Maester Pycelle for another sleeping draught._ Lyra knew she was going to have trouble sleeping without it in a _relative_ stranger's bed.

Pulling out a chair for her lady to sit on, Ashara motioned for her to sit down so she could brush her hair. The two women sat in relative silence, both of them contemplating their new positions in life.

"The Hand of the King, Lord Tywin, is having your chambers moved closer to Jaime's starting today", Ashara remembered Princess Meria wanted to tell Lady Lyra.

"He's probably eager for Jaime to get me with child", she Lyra responded.

"That is the gossip among the handmaidens my lady". Both women softly laughed at this; Lord Tywin's reputation for always having his goal in mind, not matter what he did, was quickly proving to be quite true.

Lyra then suddenly remembered, _Meraxes!_ She felt panic shoot through her like a lightning bolt as she suddenly remembered her beloved cat being left in her chambers for his own safety. "Where's Meraxes?!" She asked worriedly.

"Don't worry a bit my lady. As soon as I heard that your chambers were being moved I came and got him. He is safely staying in my quarters for the time being".

Once Ashara finished brushing Lyra's hair, she began to lace Lyra into a Lannister red gown with a creme bodice and lace sleeves. "A wedding gift from one of your lord husband's cousins. It's a very popular style in the Westerlands," she responded upon seeing Lyra's confusion. She immediately felt guilty upon remembering; she wasn't exactly sober all day yesterday, and now that she thought of it, she doubted Jaime was either.

Once Ashara finished lacing her into the dress, Lyra looked in the mirror. With her dark hair cascading down her shoulders, the colors suited her, much to her dismay. She already had mixed feelings about marrying the Kingslayer, but being a Lannister made them even more complicated. The family responsible for the death of her uncle, Eddard, and the imprisonment of her sweet cousin, Sansa. They were at war with half of her family, and now her Martell family was about to take up arms against them as well. To top it all off, Lyra was powerless to do anything but make her own position a little better in life. _Life is full of little_ _intricacies,_ Prince Doran had told her while she was trying to make up her mind about going or not. _However_ , _this may be your only opportunity for a good marriage. If King Robb succeeds, you may never see the North again,or even have a chance to regain your seat._ Reflecting on Prince Doran's words, Lyra decided that marrying Jaime was the lesser of evils. She did _not_ want to turn into an unmarried maid in her mid twenties like her cousin, Princess Arienne; and she had seen what it had done to Arienne over the years to see her friends happily married and her not. Not only that, but Lyra had always felt a little betrayed by her Stark family. She felt that they had abandoned her by taking her seat away as her father's rightful heir. Not only that, but they sided with Robert Baratheon, whom Lyra despised. Sure, she hated the Mad King as much as anyone else, but she disagreed with the death of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia and their family. Though she despised Lord Tywin as much as she did the Mad King and Robert Baratheon. But these were her family's wishes, and as it had been painfully pointed out to Lyra, she was a Stark in name only.

 _My life has become complicated indeed._

* * *

When the Martell party entered the main dining hall, Prince Oberyn saw that they were clearly interrupting an argument between Queen Cersei and Lord Tyrion.

 _This Family cannot even agree among itself apparently._

Oberyn hated leaving his niece among these people, even more so, he hated marrying her off to the Kingslayer. _She deserves so much better,_ he kept repeating that line in his head the whole trip. He and his little sister, Princess Meria, had a rather big argument with Prince Doran before he had given them a good enough reason to go through with it.

"Ahh! Prince Oberyn! Won't you join us in breaking our fast? Perhaps you could regale us with some old war stories!" Lord Tyrion suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

Oberyn sat down with next to Tyrion, the rest of the Martells entered the hall. Cersei was particularly happy to finally be reunited with her daughter, Princess Mercella. "Lord Tyrion", Oberyn began, grabbing toast, "why don't you regale _us_ with some of _your_ war stories? I heard that you have recently seen battle and lived to tell the tale. So tell me, what is it like to finally see battle at such an old age?"

The Martells and Cersei had to stifle a laugh. To the Martells, it was strange to see a lord in his thirties who had _just_ seen battle only less than a year ago. To Cersei, it was funny to see the brother she disliked so much to be slightly humiliated in front of their new allies in the war. Tyrion faltered a little, but he quickly recovered when his sweet niece added for all to hear, "I'm glad you made it out alive uncle".

"Me too, dear", Tyrion smiled soberly at Mercella. "Though _some people_ would like to see me dead," he added, looking briefly at Cersei, "I'm afraid that I'm too fond of life, especially since the world is so exciting these days". Oberyn chuckled at his words being obviously directed at the Queen. "I must ask though Prince Oberyn, _where_ is my good sister? My wife Sansa was just asking me last night if she could have tea with her soon".

* * *

Lyra had decided to skip breaking her fast with her family and went for a ride instead. She wasn't terribly hungry anyways, which was strange because she was usually very hungry come morning. _Though I suppose it's closer to afternoon, everyone probably went to bed very late due to the festivities._ Relishing in the peace of being alone to her thoughts, she quickly let her horse break out into a gallop when she got close to a more isolated beach.

Hearing a load clanking in the near distance, she came to a grinding halt on the horse. It sounded like somebody was sword fighting in the distance. Riding more quietly towards it, she saw two figures on a large slab of rock overviewing the sea. _Jaime?_ She was certain that one of them was her lord husband sparring with a man who she did not know or recognize. Dismounting quietly, she crept over and watched; she was genuinely curious to watch the two practice their swordplay. Especially since she had heard for so many years that Jaime Lannister was the best sword in the Seven Kingdoms. She wanted to see what he was made of a swordsman. She was slightly disappointed to see how awkward he was fighting the other man with his left hand, and she felt a little sorry for him. Lyra herself was much more graceful at swordplay than her husband was.

Seeing the other man leave after a while, Lyra came out of her spot, and initially startled Jaime. When he pulled up his sword hearing her foot accidentally kick a rock onto the stone rather loudly, expecting an enemy probably. "It's just me, Lyra," she said, coming into view.

Jaime lowered his sword, looking relieved, but slightly horrified that she had run into him. "Now you see what a useless cripple your husband is", he said to her bitterly.

Feeling sorry for him, and realizing that he was clearly at one of his lowest moments of his life, she told him, "you're not useless, Jaime. You just need practice just like everyone else when they just begin to learn to wield a sword."

Jaime scoffed at this, "and to think I used to be the best sword in the Seven Kingdoms. I can barely cut my own food anymore". Looking at his left hand, Lyra heard him mutter, "useless".

She felt bad for him at this, and she didn't like anyone calling themselves a useless cripple. "You're _not_ useless Jaime. At least, _I_ don't think you are". Remembering her own frustration when she was trying to learn how to wield a smaller, secondary sword in her left hand, she told him to put down the practice sword and give her his left hand. Feeling it in her hands, she smiled a soft smile at him, "you know, I too know how to wield a sword, _and_ I have had to learn how to wield one with my left hand. Though my mother would be horrified to learn that I told you". They both smiled at this; the Lannisters and Martells alike would probably be horrified to know that _such a noble woman_ knew how to potentially defend herself in battle. "Five fingers, and muscles in all the right places," she said massaging the tightness in his hand, "I believe you'll re-learn how to wield a sword in no time, _Ser_ ".

He looked back at her, he was clearly slightly confused at her response; he had initially expected her to be disgusted with his deformity and lack of ability with a sword like Cersei. To be cast aside as soon as she found out that he could barely do what he was good at anymore. In fact, he had braced himself for the worst when he initially realized that she had seen him practicing so _ungainly_ with Bronn. Jaime felt his heart beginning to open to this nineteen year old girl who seemed to be giving him a chance. "Thank you for your kind words my lady", he told her.

"They aren't kind words, they're true".

The urge to kiss her at that moment washed over him, and he did just that. Putting her arms around his shoulders, they let themselves get lost in the moment, their differences momentarily melting away. When they pulled away, Lyra felt a little heat in her face, "ride back with me? I don't see a horse". Lyra in Jaime's lap, they began to ride back towards the Red Keep.

"So, my lady knows how to wield a sword then? Not very lady-like", he gently teased her.

"Maybe one day I'll show you and you can _try_ to beat me", she answered playfully. She felt the rumble of his chuckle against her back.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Aw! They just shared a moment!**

 **Sorry if it alienates some readers, but Lyra actually isn't all that fond of her Stark family; she does not _dislike_ them, but she is not a big fan of them either. Sure she likes the Stark children, but it's a similar situation to how she felt about Prince Rhaegar vs. King Aerys II; she likes the Stark children, but she is somewhat embittered towards her _Stark family_ as a whole for taking away, what she saw, as her birthright to Winterfell. Plus, Westeros is a place of Primogeniture; in order for her to have a good life, she is going to have to marry into a good family. However, because she is more close with Sansa and feels compassionate towards her, she _is_ going to feel obligated to help her Stark family through her position when she can.**

 **Plus, despite still being slightly in denial, being raised more Martell than Stark and being so close to Rhaenys at such a young age, she almost dislikes them for siding with Robert Baratheon during the war.** **Essentially, don't let her fondness for the Stark children fool you; if she is loyal to anyone, it is her Martell family, especially since Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn have looked out for her so well throughout her life. However, she isn't terribly fond of her Lannister family either.**

 **Lyra is rather complicated and a multifaceted character. Single faceted characters are boring.**

 **Hope this clears some things up.**


	10. Chapter 10: Memories and the Present

**Author's Note: Thank you Winter Kiss for your thoughtful reviews! You've actually inspired me to keep writing and developing the story further! This is my first real fic and I'm so happy that you like it :)**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Memories and the Present**

Lyra and Jaime were walking back to his chambers after having supped with Lord Tywin. It was their fifth night since their marriage. Thankfully it had just been the two of them and Lord Tywin. Queen Cersei was not there, much to Lyra's relief. Cersei had been giving her rather nasty glances since her marriage to Jaime, which was making Lyra begin to think that the rumors about Jaime and his sister were true. Being grilled by Lord Tywin about her's and Jaime's marriage and their efforts to conceive an heir were intrusive and bad enough without Cersei adding to the stress. Upon Lord Tywin asking the two if they were doing everything possible to conceive an heir, Lyra and Jaime exchanged slightly embarrassed glances. _As if he doesn't already know,_ Jaime thought; he knew that his lord father had guards posted outside his bedchamber regularly make sure that he and Lyra were fucking regularly. Lyra had even confided to him that she had a rather loathsome feeling that Pycelle might even be keeping track of and reporting her cycles to Tywin. Lyra was rather shocked by this, but jaime wasn't all that surprised; he had always known his father to do whatever necessary to assure his goals.

Ever since Lyra had found Jaime and the man, whom she later found out was named Ser Bronn, sparring at the beach, they had begun to bond with each other. In fact, Lyra's marriage was unexpectedly happy so far. Jaime was still embarrassed to have her watch him practice with his left hand, but after the third day of riding down to the beach to watch them, Jaime had given into her. Lyra wasn't riding down to watch him to embarrass him at all; if anything, she came as support and tried to encourage him whenever she could. He refused to spar with her, much to her disappointment.

"You know I spar with my cousins right? The Sand Snakes", she said cocking an eyebrow at him.

"And what kind of a knight would I be if I sparred with my lady wife?" He asked with mirth in his voice.

"A better one," Lyra responded with a smile as she lightly pushed his shoulder.

Jaime laughed at this. This was how most of their interactions were; teasing one another, all in good fun of course. Sometimes, though, it was more than just verbal teasing...The two of them had come to enjoy in indulging in each others' bodies so much that sometimes, they touched each other when they thought that nobody was looking, they had even had sex in an empty corridor once.

* * *

Arriving at his chambers for the night, Lyra found herself wanting to be intimate with Jaime. They had been sexually active every night and most mornings since their marriage, but Lyra had always been too shy to initiate it. A lot of people had told her that she was a beautiful and exotic woman, but she still lacked self-esteem when it came to her beauty. The nickname 'horse-face' most definitely did _not_ help in this regard, which is why she was so shocked when Robb had begun to show sexual interest in her a couple of years ago.

Lyra blushed as she remembered their encounter when she was eighteen and Robb was seventeen, _Gods was he handsome_. Since they were do to be married, and at the time, both of them had thought that the marriage was 'set in stone'; so, they took some 'liberties'. Her and Robb had been out riding one evening and he wanted to show his bride to be something special about his home, a place that should have been and would be her home soon, or so she thought. Dismounting from their horses, the sun had just gone down and Lyra could remember the beautiful summer snow that had begun that morning and continued throughout the day. Winterfell had become a winter wonderland by the evening. After dismounting from her horse, Robb looked around to make sure that nobody could spot them, he then came up behind Lyra and gently placed his gloved hands over her eyes. "No peaking," he said, gently laughing at her surprise. Leading her from behind, they trekked through the six inch snow. After walking for a time, Robb uncovered her eyes and what she saw took her breath away; it was a beautiful clearing in the forest, something Lyra had never seen before. It was a full moon that night and the moonbeam was shining through the clearing, it was a magical sight to Lyra.

The beauty of the clearing took her breath away, it was so pristine! She had never seen anything like it in her life! All she could do for a few seconds was feast her eyes on the beauty of the North. Suddenly Lyra heard Robb softly laugh behind her, "what's so funny?" She asked, almost indignantly. "You," he replied. Taking her hand in his he began to lead her through the clearing. She was hesitant at first because the snow was untouched and gorgeous, but after Robb turned her head to look at the moon, she forgot all about the perfection.

"Beautiful isn't it?" He asked her; lying down in the snow.

"I've-I've never seen anything like it!" Lyra exclaimed, sitting in the snow next to him. It was cold, but Lyra didn't really mind, her furs kept her warm.

Looking at Robb, she saw that he was grinning at her. Feeling uncomfortable with this, she asked him, "What are you smiling about?"

Leaning over and pulling her to the ground with him, he then gently grabbed Lyra's face and pulled her towards his. Robb kissed her; her first kiss. Shyly, she had run her hands over his chest, eliciting a moan of, what she now knew was sexual pleasure. Pulling her on top of him, they continued to kiss more passionately. Robb was clearly more experienced than Lyra, but she did her best to keep up, which she must have been doing well because she suddenly felt something hard press into her crotch. At the time, Lyra didn't know why, but this made her excited, and she felt hot liquid gush from between her legs. Moaning at the pleasurable sensation, she moved her legs a little, trying to get friction where she needed it most. Feeling her do this as they were kissing, Robb grabbed her hips and gently forced her legs to spread a bit before he began to slowly and gently dry hump her. After she involuntarily let a moan escape her lips, he picked up his pace and ground into her a little harder. _Gods this feels amazing!_ Was all Lyra could remember thinking at the time, she then began meeting his pace and they were then vigorously grinding against one another. After a particularly loud moan, Robb then pulled her skirts up and began to rub her most private spot. "Oh my Gods," was all he could say as he felt her sopping wet cunt. He then began teasing her entrance a little by gently gliding his ungloved fingers along her wet slit. He massaged her entrance with his index finger, eliciting another loud moan from his betrothed. "Please," Lyra panted in ecstasy, "don't stop!"

Grinning, Robb had an idea, it was FAR too intimate, especially since they were yet to be married, but being betrothed was good enough he supposed. Turning his lady over onto her back, he began to move her skirts up. Lyra gasped, "Robb! What-ugh," she had been effectively silenced when he began to rub her sensitive, virgin nub gently twerking it between his fingers. Robb felt his trousers tighten even more when she unconsciously arched her back with pleasure. Pulling his fingers out from her slit, he looked at them; they were so slick with her virgin love juices. He then vaguely remembered Theon telling him how virgins get excited and very wet very easily. Robb so desperately wanted to enter her, but his honor kept him back, so he decided to settle for then next best thing.

Lyra gasped in shock and horror when he put his face between her legs. Gasping for breath, she asked him, "Robb, what are you-that's-that's where gross things come out of me!" He put his hand on her belly and gently pushed Lyra back down into the snow, "Shhhh," he whispered, "relax, I promise you'll like it". With that reassurance, Lyra lied back down nervously. When Robb ran his tongue over her most sensitive nub, she cried out in pleasure. Meanwhile, Robb was too busy eating his future lady wife out to notice her moans of pleasure. He had heard from many men that Dornish women tasted particularly good; they tended to taste more sweet due to their diets mostly consisting of fruits. To his delight, he found this to be very true with Lyra, and he was more than happy to lap away at the nectar flowing freely from her little sex.

"Oh! Robb! Please-please don't stop", he heard Lyra gasp out.

That did it for him, he couldn't handle it any longer. Taking his other glove off, her began to rub his own cock, moaning into Lyra's pussy as he did so. The vibrations of his moans into her sex gave her a strange but intensely pleasure able feeling low in her belly. It was foreign and she was afraid of it, yet she also didn't want it to stop. As it built stronger and stronger, she felt that she could no longer take the feeling; the pressure in her lower body was about to be released whether she liked it or not. "Robb, I-ahhh-nyhhhuuuuhhhhh!" Lyra's vision went black and she felt a dizzying heady sensation. She barely heard Rob cum due to the ringing in her ears, but she felt a little of it splash onto her legs.

The two of them, totally spent and basking in the afterglow of their orgasms, could only lie in the snow. Lyra's skirts still disheveled and a little hiked up and Robb's trousers unlaced, the two lay in the snow. Lyra, pulling her skirts back down due to the cold, snuggled up to Robb; both for warmth _and_ because she realized that he had just given her her first orgasm. She felt so affectionate towards him at that moment in that magical clearing.

* * *

Lyra came out of her trance when she heard Jaime laugh behind her. She hadn't realized that she had been sitting in front of the mirror for a good five minutes after she had finished brushing her hair. Embarrassed, she quickly got up and came into the bed with her lord husband. Upon climbing into bed with her husband, she realized that he was naked, and after reminiscing about her sexy encounter with Robb two years ago, she felt bold enough to initiate their 'activities tonight'.

Not only that, but this night, she was feeling even more bold with the wine she had had with supper, and she found herself growing fonder of Jaime. Feeling bold, Lyra kissed him, passionately. Initially, Jaime was shocked, especially when she gently led her hand down the sheets and gently grabbed his cock; he wasn't expecting his inexperienced wife to initiate the fucking tonight. He moaned as he let his lady wife take the lead in the bedroom this time. Trailing gently and sweet kisses down his chest, he moaned at the pleasurable sensation; however, he was shocked when she began to go lower and lower, all the way down to his hardening cock.

Lyra wasn't completely sure what to do, but she thought that she had heard enough stories from her much more sexually active cousins to do this. Gently taking Jaime's semi-hard member into her mouth, careful not to use her teeth, she began by slowly lapping his tip. Jaime moaned and put both his good and gold hands in her hair, trying to resist the urge to pull her hair to get deeper into her throat. He felt his self control wavering though when she began to take his shaft further into her mouth and use her tongue to tease the sensitive nerves on the lower part of his shaft. "Oh...Lyra...ahhhh," he moaned and the sensation overload. Cersei had tried doing this to him once, but found that she did not like it. He didn't mind all that much; she wasn't very into the act so it was hard to enjoy it. _This_ , however, what Lyra was doing to him felt incredible! Especially since she was now sucking even harder on his cock, while also using her tongue to lap at the pre-cum that was leaking out of him. When she suddenly began moaning, the sight he saw almost made him cum; Lyra, between his legs, naked with her perky little breasts and small, erect little nipples, rubbing her own sex. He pulled her up, a small line of saliva connecting her mouth to his cock, it was _so_ sexy to see. Kissing her passionately, she suddenly broke the kiss; "You're so good to me," she said sweetly, with _very_ dark eyes and dilated pupils, "let _me_ take care of you for once."

With that, she pushed herself off of Jaime, and impaired herself on him. Hissing with great pleasure at her heat and tightness, he couldn't help the loud moan that escaped his lips. He was sure that the guards posted outside his door could hear him. "Aaaahhh," Lyra moaned at the fullness she had been looking forward to. Ellaria was right; she _was_ finding incredible pleasure at being bedded by her lord husband, and the fact that she found Jaime so incredibly handsome didn't hurt either. As she began slowly riding him, finding pleasure at rubbing against Jaime's pubic bone, she noticed that her lord husband's emerald green eyes had turned _quite_ dark. Lyra remembered Tyene telling her about how easy it was to control a man "with that tight bad pussy", as she had said it; she began to realize how and why Tyene was able to get men to do just about anything she wanted of them, and at this moment, looking into Jaime's eyes, Lyra realized that he would do anything for her at this moment.

Cupping her right breast in his good hand, while keeping the gold one near her bottom, she felt him give both of them a very pleasurable squeeze. Reaching between her legs to wet his fingers, Jaime tweaked her nipple, eliciting a mewl from her. Grinding aggressively one his, she desperately wanted to feel that rush again. Trailing his good hand up to her throat, and cupping her cheek, she suddenly felt the urge to suck on his fingers. "Oh God's Lyra..." was all Jaime could get out. The pressure was building unbearably inside of him, but he wanted her to release first; the hard, hot contractions she had when she orgasmed while he was still inside of her was absolutely _delicious_ to him. He _needed_ for her to cum, and he needed her to cum soon because he could barely hold himself. Putting his good hand between her legs, he rubbed to little bundle of nerves in small circles, the way he had learn how she liked to be touched. Throwing her head back, Lyra ground against him even more aggressively, switching between moans of uncontainable pleasure and gasping for breath as her face and body heated, making her sweat. Soon, she came around him. _Hard_. Grabbing her hips with both his good hand and gold hand, he kept her ridding him wildly, drawing out their orgasms. Jaime felt a little lecherous at her strangled cries and hot tears of pleasure as he drew out her orgasm like never before, while she milked his cock dry.

Lyra weakly braced herself against his shoulders as her arms shook before giving out; she was physically and sexually spent. Both lovers were breathing hard, trying to catch their breath. Eventually, Lyra _slowly_ pulled her lord husband out of her and lay next to him. Still catching her breath. Jaime looked over at his sweet young wife, and felt a pang of terrible guilt; the way she was looking at him, she was looking at him with live in her eyes.

Even though they were still relatively strangers to one another, he had grown fond of her she knew that he was growing fond of her too. He couldn't deny that she had begun entering his heart, but he didn't think that he could love her. He was still hurt by Cersei's revulsion of him. He had seen how desperate Lyra was to be happy with him despite the bad blood between their families. He would get her with child and be fond of her but that was all he felt he could do for her. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy indulging in her body every night. Something he had found that she was more than happy to oblige.

Jaime couldn't take the look of love in her eyes, so he looked away. Hearing a barely audible sound of disappointment and hurt from Lyra as she slowly shifted away from him, he immediately felt guilty. _I cannot love her, I'm too broken to do so, but I_ can _show her affection_ ; he decided that it was more a sign of affection rather than love to hold her after they had sex. He didn't want to give her the wrong idea, but it hurt him to see her so hurt by his lack of love for her.

"Lyra, will you please come here? I find that I sleep better when you're in my arms." His lady wife turned around and nodded, scooting closer to Jaime, she nestled herself on his left side and rested her head on the soft spot between his shoulder and neck. Jaime wasn't lying; he _did_ sincerely sleep better with her in his arms. Her affection for him was very comforting, which made him sleep easier, and he knew that she slept easier as well.

 _What am I going to do about this, Lyra?_ He wondered as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So! Two smut scenes in one chapter! Lyra may not have loved Robb, but she defiantly liked him and was very attracted to him. Also, knowing Robb from the series and the books, I could _totally see him_ being okay with taking some liberties that were _just_ shy of intercourse with a woman he was certain he was going to marry.**

 **How did everyone like this chapter? Also, how are my lemons? are they too explicit?**

 **Soo, please don't hate me but I won't be updating as often :( I want to work on my Devil May Cry stories and my novel a bit as well, but don't worry! I'll try to update about once a week!**

 **R &R is _always_ welcomed as long as it pertains to the story and is actually constructive criticism! **

**:3**


	11. Chapter 11: No More Hiding

**Chapter 11: No More Hiding**

Lyra sat by the rocks near the beach of Blackwater Bay watching her husband spar with Bronn.

After around a week into their marriage, Lyra got down the patterns of times that Bronn and Jaime practiced swordplay, and she had come to spending most of her afternoons watching them covertly, of course. She knew that her husband found it embarrassing that she knew about his training with Bronn, but she still enjoyed watching them spar. Lyra also didn't understand _why_ he felt embarrassed about his wife watching him spar. _Sure_ , Jaime was learning to spar with his off-hand, but that's all it was, Lyra had assured him: _learning_ , and there was nothing to be ashamed of. So, Lyra had felt that nothing Jaime didn't know about couldn't hurt him, thus, she had taken to watching them from a short distance, well hidden by some rocks. That is, until Bronn caught her after two weeks of doing this.

 _Bronn of the Blackwater_ , was how he had introduced himself to Lyra, before kissing her hand and calling her "Lady Lannister". Lyra rolled her eyes at him for being so overly dramatic about the chivalric introduction after unceremoniously barging in on her "secret spot" and finding her before meeting with Jaime. Brown had his daggers out and everything; initially thinking she was someone else, and there to do them harm.

After that, Jaime saw no point in trying to hide it from her, and he simply relented to letting her watch. Lyra supposed that it was because her lord husband probably figured that if word had not gotten out already after about two weeks of knowing, along with the fact that Lyra had sworn on her honor as a Stark that she would keep his secrets as his lady wife, even from her mother and family; then word would probably not get out anyways.

 _That_ was two weeks ago. Now, it had been over a moon since Lyra Stark married Jaime Lannister, _and_ she noticed that she had not gotten her moonblood in a moon and a half. Lyra had realized this one day before taking tea with Margery Tyrell and her cousin, Sansa. She was getting ready in her chambers, having just come back from riding, she was brushing her hair, when it dawned on her.

 _I have a lion in my belly_ , was all Lyra could think about for the rest of the day. She didn't want to tell anyone yet; she knew that being this early into her pregnancy, she could lose the babe at anytime, and for, seemingly, no reason at all. She had often heard from the maesters about their theory on how most women lose their pregnancies within the first month or two for seemingly no reason at all. At least, a reason that _they_ apparently couldn't figure out.

If Lyra were completely honest with herself, she wasn't sure how to feel about the lion cub growing in her belly. She felt guilty for **not** feeling excitement; _Aren't women_ supposed _to feel overjoyed at being pregnant?_ She thought this often to herself in the days following. Truth be told, the prospect of becoming a new mother during times of war, especially since now _all_ sides of her family were fighting this war, was actually a little overwhelming. Especially since Lyra wasn't sure about how she felt about having a babe with _Jaime_ , which brought up thoughts that she didn't want to think about.

Queen Cersei had generally been avoiding Lyra ever since the wedding, and now, she was beginning to look at Lyra with distaste, and even, a little jealousy, if Lyra wasn't mistaken; which gave Lyra thought to believe that the rumors about her and Jaime could possibly be true. She didn't _want_ to believe that the rumors were true and that they _were_ _just_ rumors started by Stannis Baratheon to illegitimize King Joffrey's right to the Iron Throne. _Still though..._ As much as Lyra despised House Baratheon, Stannis was a man known to be dedicated to honor and truth, just as Lyra's lord uncle, Ned Stark, had been. Not only that, but _all_ of Queen Cersei and Robert's children had Lannister hair and eyes, all were golden... _just_ like Cersei... _just_ like Jaime...And if Lyra remembered correctly, she had once read in the maester's text that dark hair was a dominant trait over blonde hair.

 _Didn't I once hear that Queen Cersei and King Robert had a boy with black hair before their marriage soured? Before Joffrey was born?_ _Also, what are the mere chances that all three children would be as blonde as Cersei and Jaime?_ The more Lyra gave the matter thought, the more the evidence mounted up that all three royal children were _not_ the late King Robert's.

Lyra never spoke of this, not to anyone, not even to her own mother. Not only did she want to remain covert about the fact that she had a feeling about the Queen and Jaime, but more importantly, it hurt Lyra to think about it now that she was pregnant.

* * *

Later that night, Jaime met up with her in the hallways as Lyra was going back to her chambers to turn in for the night. She and her lord husband had been so busy recently with the war effort and helping to prepare for the royal wedding of the King and Lady Margaery Tyrell, that they had not seen much of each other for a few days. Lyra and Jaime continued to sleep together every night after the mandatory seven nights, much to Lord Tywin's delight, but the last few days, they hadn't done much of that either.

Her lord husband took her hands and smiled his cutting smile at her, and told her how much he missed her during the past few days. Taken a little aback, she realized that he genuinely _did_ miss her. They kissed so passionately that night, and they did not _fuck_ like they usually did; rather, Lyra would call what they did "making love". They were slow and deliberate, drawing it out and taking their time last night, and kissing, there was so much tender kissing between them before, during, and after they made love. Afterwards, they lay in the disheveled sheets, Lyra laying astride from him, and Jaime stroking her face tenderly with his good hand. Lyra looked at his gold hand, Jaime wore it _all the time_ in her presence.

"Doesn't it bother you? It seems very uncomfortable to wear it all the time," she said to him; touching his gold hand.

Jaime gave her a curious look in response to her question, "I don't wear it _all_ the time, I _do_ take it off," he explained.

"When you're alone?"

"I suppose so..." Truth be told, Jaime didn't take it off in front of Lyra because he assumed that she would be as repulsed as Cersei had been by his deformity. Jaime knew that was why his sister had the hand made for him in the first place, he wasn't stupid. Even if Cersei no longer wanted him and rejected him, she _still_ didn't want to see him without a hand, even if that hand was only a golden prosthetic one.

"Take it off, please? I can tell that you're uncomfortable wearing it."

"Lyra..." He trailed off.

"Jaime," she said, stroking his forearm in a comforting manner with her thumb, " _I_ am your wife," she said this gently, "I _want_ _you_ to be comfortable, and if you're going to be uncomfortable either way, then you may as well take it off. I lov..." She almost said the very thing she didn't want to say. Quickly recovering though; "You don't have to hide from me. I don't want you to. I'd like to think that I'm the one person whom you don't have to hide yourself from."

Finally relenting, but not wanting to, Jaime braced himself emotionally when he finally took the gold hand off. He was expecting Lyra's reaction to be similar to Cerise's and everyone else's: scorn.

Lyra gingerly felt the stub where Jaime's sword hand had once been. The skin looked and felt smooth and healed. Wanting to break the silence and assure her lord husband that everything was good and fine and that she _did not_ find his stub repulsive, she said, "It seems as if the maester has done a good job, it looks well healed. Does it hurt for me to touch you?"

Jaime's eyes stung and he choked out a response, "no," he said rather quietly, "not at all".

Increasing the pressure of her fingers while feeling his stub, she asked, "Can you feel me?" Lyra wanted the father of her child, _their_ child, to feel comfortable being completely exposed to her as she felt he should. As they _both_ deserved to feel around one another.

"Not much, I've lost a lot of feeling closer to the end; but yes, I can feel you." Lyra continued to touch his stub in a gentle, reassuring, and almost loving way; which made Jaime's heart swell. He didn't think that such a small gesture of another human being gently touching his stub, the part of him that he and everyone else found so repulsive, in a way that Lyra would touch any other part of him to show affection, would mean so much to him. Jaime certainly felt that Lyra had become important to him to have in his life, he had figured that out after he found himself missing Lyra so much that he didn't think he could go another night without _at least_ spending time with her. Bonding with her, he supposed. However, now, he was beginning to feel _more_ than just that about her...

Lyra saw the look on his face, and suddenly, she felt the past and the rumors beginning to matter less and less to her. _If he loved Cersei, then I don't believe that_ tonight _would have happened_. To a certain extent, Lyra supposed that this thread of reasoning was something that she was attempting to hold on to, in order for her to let it go, because she _truly did_ want to let it all go and just love her lord husband and have a happy family of her own again. As she began to let go, she also realized that she _was indeed_ happy and excited to be carrying Jaime's child. Lyra's eyes stung, but she bit her lip to stop her tears; she _wanted_ to tell him, it was too happy a secret to keep to herself any longer.

Taking her lord husband's hand and pressing it to her belly, she smiled a genuinely happy smile at him. Lyra took in air to speak, but she was at a loss for words; she wasn't sure how to tell him, but by the look on Jaime's face, she probably didn't need to. Jaime's face broke into a grin as he realized what she was trying to tell her.

First kissing Lyra's belly, and then kissing his lady wife herself, he held her close and kissed her again and again and again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Aw! What did you think? Kinda cheesy, I know, but I thought that this would be a nice way for Lyra and Jaime to begin to love each other!**

 **Thank you for your kind comment LunaEvanna Longbottom! I _wish_ that I had more comments/reviews, but I don't want to stress anyone :-)**

 **also, I'd like to thank all of my readers for being so patient with the story! This whole entire thing is still in "draft" mode; my stories are not officially done until they are labeled "complete". So I know that my story has some plot holes and some "kinks" that need to be worked out in the plot, but that will come in time as the story develops.**

 **btw: no spoilers, but don't get too attached to Lyra and Jaime's current romance! As in "martinesque" fashion, when things are about to go good, things start going to shit!**

 **R &R if you will!**


	12. Chapter 12: What Comes this Way

**Chapter 12: What Comes This Way**

Lord Tywin was rubbing his temples and let out an irritated sign. He could not wrap his head around it. When Prince Doran Martell had come to his, practically offering Lyra Stark as a gift, he had not looked the gift horse in its mouth. Lord Tywin was a proud man, but not so proud that he could not admit to perhaps acting too hastily.

When the Prince of Dorne had offered up his niece, Lyra Stark, to Lord Tywin, specifically, to be wed to his eldest son, Jaime, Lord Tywin did not want to look a Gift Horse in the mouth. Indeed, perhaps he _had_ acted too hastily in marrying his son to the eldest legitimate child of Brandon Stark. All his life, Lord Tywin had heard that Prince Doran was a cunning man who was not to be overestimated; and yet, here Lord Tywin was, rubbing his temples, trying to understand the Prince's motives.

 _Why would he give up Brandon Strak's only heir without any fight? Surely he knows how valuable Lyra Stark is?_

Tywin repeated this over and over in his head until it throbbed. Ever since Lyra had announced that she had become pregnant with Jaime's heir, Prince Oberyn Martell had been walking around the Red Keep with a bigger more smug smile than ever; as if he knew something that Tywin didn't. The Prince of Dorne's only requirement to releasing Lyra Stark was that she could _only_ marry Jaime Lannister and the Dornish forces would come to the Crown's aid. Lord Tywin, trying to clean up the mess that his nephew the King and his daughter the Queen had made in his absence, had not had time to fully realize the details of this bargain; instead, agreeing almost immediately. At first, the Lannisters seemed to have the most to gain, but since the wedding two months ago, the Dornish forces had moved at a snail's pace towards the Riverlands. Instead, they were still in the Reach.

Tywin Lannister was not a patient man, and he was becoming increasingly impatient by the day as Hand of the King. So, he enlisted the help of the Lord of the Crossing, and equally impatient man. Now, those plans had seemingly come into fruition, when Lord Tywin saw the raven from Walder Frey.

First, Lord Tywin called an impromptu Small Council meeting including Jaime and Prince Oberyn. His youngest son, Tyrion Lannister was the last to arrive. Prince Oberyn looked a little too smug for his liking; as if he knew something Lord Tywin didn't. Meanwhile, King Joffrey was bouncing around the Small Council table, _making a fool of himself_ , Tywin noted. _I need to send Prince Tommen to the Rock with Jaime and Lyra. Make a_ real _Lannister out of the young Prince. Not this_ debacle _of a King Joffery is._

As soon as Jaime came in and took his seat, Tywin handed the slip of parchment to him.

"My lady wife will not be pleased to hear this," he said simply, grabbing a goblet of wine.

"She doesn't have to be. She will do her duty either way. Even _she_ must have known that this day would come eventually," Tywin responded to his son without emotion.

When Tyrion finally came in, looking at Joffrey's unusually gleeful face, asked him if he had killed any puppies that day. Then, upon reading the parchment, after Grand Maester Pycell "accidentally" dropped it, Lord Tywin was done with the foolery and cut to the quick.

"The Young Wolf is dead, as well as Catlyn Stark," Tywin interpreted the message for him in a deadpanned manner.

"Isn't my grandfather, the Lord Hand, brilliant?" Joffrey said to nobody in particular. The King then continued to Grand Maester Pycell, "Write to Lord Walder Frey; thank him for his service, and command him to send Robb Stark's head," turning to the rest of the Small Coincil, he declared, "I'm going to serve it to Sansa for my wedding."

Everyone except for Queen Cersei and the Grand Maester looked horrified at this suggestion. Lord Varys, horrified, even added, "The lady is your aunt by marriage, your grace, as well as Lady Lyra. It may be unwise to accidentally spite your in-laws in your moment of triumph."

"A joke," Queen Cersei interrupted, trying to save face for her eldest son, "he didn't mean it."

The King's face fell, "of course I did!" I'm Going to have it served to Sansa at my wedding feast."

"No," Tyrion interrupted with both shock and contempt, "she is no longer yours to torment."

"Everyone is mine to torment!" Joffrey shot back in a cold voice, "You'd do well to remember that you little monster."

Jaime, having heard enough of this from, who was disturbingly his flesh and blood, back up his younger brother. "Monster is he? Perhaps you should speak more softly. Kings are dropping like flies at the hands of men these days."

"Yes," Tyrion added, "Monsters are dangerous. Imagine what someone as dangerous as a monster could do to you."

Everyone present could only stare at the three of them.

Looking at Jaime, Joffrey weakly recovered and said, "I-I could have your tongue ripped out for that."

Cersei, trying to calm them all, took her son's hand and softly, telling him, "Let them make their threats. They're only a bitter cripple and a half-man."

"I AM THE KING!" Joffrey had completely recomposed himself. Threatening to punish both his uncles, before Lord Tywin jumped in.

"Anyone who must say 'I am the King' is no king at all," Lord Tywin coldly dismissed his nephew. "I'll make sure you understand that when _I've_ won your war for you."

" _My father was the real king_ ," Joffrey snapped back, " _he won the real war while you were hidden away under Casterly Rock."_

Everybody in the room went so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Jaime knew that his lord father had just been hit in his weak spot, and he drank his goblet deeply, trying to pretend that he was somewhere else. Everyone else shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, looking at each other and trying to avoid Lord Tywin's gaze.

Looking at Grand Maester Pycell, the Lord Hand added, " The king is tired. See him to his chambers"

 _I'm not tired_ , Joffrey muttered in the background. The Queen getting up, taking his hand, told her son, "Come along now. We have _so much_ to celebrate. A wedding to plan."

"Perhaps some essence of nightshade to help calm the King's nerves as well," Tywin finished, addressing the maester, and ignoring his grandson's protests.

"Dismissed." The hand said to the rest of the Small Chamber. Except you two, he addressed his two sons.

Moving closer to Jaime and Lord Tywin, Tyrion grabbed a goblet and poured himself wine. "You just sent the most powerful man in Westeros to bed without his supper."

To which Tywin replied, "You're a fool if you believe him to be the most powerful man."

"A treasonous statement!" Tyrion feigned hurt, "Joffrey is king!"

Looking at Jaime, Lord Tywin asked his oldest son, "In your experience, does wearing a crown truly give you power."

Jaime could only sit under his lord father's ice gaze, feeling like a child being scolded for jumping off the rocks again. "No."

"Armies give you power," Tyrion suddenly added, "Robb Stark had one; you had one. He never lost a battle; yet you defeated him all the same. Why am I still surprised?"

"Will the Lord of the Crossing take all the credit or all of the blame?" Jaime asked his lord father, knowing that however Robb Stark had been defeated, it could not have been that clean.

Following his older brother's lead, Tyrion added to his father, "Lord Walder is many things, but a brave man? No. He would not have done this without certain...assurances. Did _you_ give him certain assurances?" Both brothers looked at their father intensely.

"Yes," Lord Tywin answered. "Do my sons disapprove?"

Jaime was the first to speak, "It was unclean." Was all he said.

"I'm all for cheating in war. But a slaughter at a wedding? under guest rights? I have to agree with Jaime." Tyrion stated this.

Turning to both his sons, "Explain to me then why it is more noble to kill 10,000 men in battle than a dozen at Dinner?"

"So that's why? To save lives?" Jaime and Tyrion, both, doubted this. Lord Tywin may be their father, but both knew that he was not above such things.

"To _protect_ the family from the Starks. _Now_ , we must focus on protecting it from the Martells and Stannis Baratheon." Jaime and Tyrion looked at their father curiously. "Now that Lyra Stark, or rather, Lyra Lannister, is pregnant with the heir of Casterly Rock, the Martell plans should come out into the open. They have been looking at the Rock for years, now they finally have it within their grasp."

It was unspoken, but everyone knew what Lord Tywin was getting at; he was implying that the Martells planned to rule the Lannisters through Lyra, which is why they agreed to this alliance.

"The Martells are now insured should the Crown fall." Tywin awoke both his sons from their thoughts. "Lyra wedded to the Lannisters of the West, controlling the seat of influence through her and her womb; and being born a Stark, solidifying a more lawful influence in the North. Now that Robert Baratheon is dead and all of Ned Stark's male descendants are dead, _she_ may now have a legal right to rule in the North over Sansa, who has now been in the South for far too long for the North's taste. Both are now wed to Lannisters. It may be a mere flip of a coin to see for whom the North would pledge for if the two contested over the seat in Winterfell: Lyra, the sole heir of Brandon Stark, who is now the eldest capable inheritor, and was originally intended to marry Robb Stark. The woman who _should_ have received her seat long ago, and who's family was never _seen_ fighting against the North; or, Sansa, Ned Stark's eldest girl, second to Lyra in line, also married to a Lannister, and who was originally meant to wed to the Crown, who defeated them in war." Lord Tywin stopped for effect, before adding to Jaime, "do not get me wrong. Be careful; the Martells want _something_ out of this alliance. Whether they have said something or no." Then looking at Tyrion he added, "which is _why_ we have split the seats: Jaime in the Westerlands, with Lyra being watched. Being tied to the Lannisters through the children borne in her womb; and you, Tyrion, in the North with Sansa. One Lannister, one seat. No two seats to one woman, no hegemony for anyone but House Lannister. Should the Riverlands ever attempt to rise up, the Freys, or whomever, can be crushed from both sides. If Dorne, the Reach, or the Stormlands ever attempt to rise against the Crown or the Lannisters, then they two shall be hit by the forces of the Westerlands and the North. That is, if the Martells decide to rise against Lyra, their own kin."

"How do you suppose I get these children onto Sansa?" Tyrion asked genuinely, "Before or after I tell her that the Lannisters were responsible for the death of her whole family?"

"You will do what you _must_ ," Lord Tywin responded.

"I _will not rape her."_

At this, Lord Tywin stopped cold and Jaime shuddered in memory of the poor girl, Tysha. Tywin dismissed Jaime, who now wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible, and forget all about this war and his past involvement in the rape of Tyrion's poor first wife.

* * *

Lyra looked at herself in the full-length mirror, albeit, disappointingly. It was three months after the wedding, and about three months into her pregnancy; yet she was still not showing. The Sand Snakes, Obara, Nymeria, and Tyene, were all gone to the battlefields to help the war effort, but Lyra knew that they were actually bored in court. She couldn't blame them, court life was rather boring for bastard children, who were only looked upon in scorn by hypocrites. Even _if_ they were born to a paramour and a Prince of Dorne. Even outside of Dorne, Lyra knew that the other kingdoms had to respect the customs of the paramours of Dorne, even though they always did so reluctantly.

Despite her high status as Brandon Stark's only heir, even if Robert Baratheon _had_ disinherited her, Lyra sometimes found herself longing to be a Sand Snake as well. Though she ran around with the Sand Snakes, treated as a Martell, and Prince oberon for a father figure, Lyra would never _be_ one of them. Not a Sand Snake, despite her cousins' protests that _she was_ one of them if only in practice and not in name; and same went for the Martells, though Lyra knew that her mother would _always_ be on her side, and that her uncles would always consider her in their family plans. Indeed, Lyra always felt the love from the Martells, and now that she was with her own child, she was just beginning to fully appreciate how much their unwavering love meant. It even made her tear up sometimes; she wished that others in her position were all so lucky.

 _Pregnancy hormones. Delicate things. They'll make you tear up over the smallest things sometimes._ Pycell's words entered Lyra's head every time she felt tears at these thoughts of love pricked her eyes. Indeed, Lyra did not care much for the old Grand Maester as she felt that Grand Maesters should not have held their position for decades. The role of Grand Maester was a prestigious one that was only given to the wisest of maesters, and Lyra knew _many_ masters whom were older and wiser than Pycell. The thought of Pycell being appointed to the role at the relatively young age of forty (something) when there were plenty others for the Citadel to chose from was unsettling. To Lyra, this _reeked_ of corruption in the Citadel that likely occurred long before her birth. Indeed, when Sarella Sand was done "playing her games" in Oldtown, Lyra would be eager to hear her stories of the Citadel and the learned men of the Order of the Maesters.

However, the child growing in her belly was giving her more concern than anything these days. Lyra had at first been alarmed when she learned that she was three months along, but had yet to have a bump in her belly. Despite her deep seated disdain for Grand Maester Pycell, Lyra was indeed happy to have him to go to with her pregnancy concerns; the man had overseen multiple delicate royal pregnancies under various kings in his time, the old man was full of knowledge and scrupulous care with every aspect of a pregnancy. Thus, Lyra completely trusted Pycell's advice and wisdom on the matter.

 _Not to worry, Lady Lannister. Given that you are only twenty years of age and that this is your first pregnancy, don't be surprised that you don't begin to see the evidence of pregnancy until later than most women._ Especially _since the women in your family don't tend to show until around the fourth moon of their first. Why, your aunt, the late Princess Elia, did not begin to visibly show until she was almost five months along with the late Princess Rhaeneys._ The Grand Maester gave Lyra an uneasy smile at this when he saw her eyes become misty at the mention of the dead princess and her children. Before she could stop them, her tears followed without her permission. Pycell, to his credit, attempted to comfort the pregnant young woman; "I'm very sorry my lady. It was truly a terrible thing that happened to them," he had told her. Though this wasn't much a comfort to Lyra, it was enough to make her dry her tears, and she walked to her own mother's chambers. These days, since she had become pregnant, Lyra found that she more and more wanted to be in the presence of her own mother. Indeed, Lyra and Princess Meria Martell could often be seen together; Meria knitting and stitching many little clothes for her first grandchild, and Lyra reading about the Westerlands, or stitching for her first born.

Today though, as Lyra was getting ready for the evening, her cousin came bursting into her chambers in tears right after she was announced.

Sansa, falling into Lyra's arms, in tears and red faced, sobbed, "my brother- my brother..."

It took some time for Lyra to calm Sansa down enough to get a comprehensible word out of her. "My mother and brother are dead. My whole family is dead and it's all my fault."

Holding Sansa in her arms, Lyra stroked her younger cousin's long auburn hair in attempt to comfort her. "Hush now. I'm sure that none of this is your fault," she assured Sansa.

"It is! It is!" Sansa sobbed, "If I hadn't told the Queen that my father was leaving, none of this would have happened. I'd be in Winterfell and my father and brother's heads wouldn't be rotting on spikes."

Lyra didn't know much about how to comfort a person in despair. Until now, she had mostly been dealing with how to rule and conduct warfare. However, Lyra _knew it_ when she saw a person who had simply had enough. "It's alright to cry in despair Sansa. Just let it all out," she had assured her cousin. Getting her some water and a handkerchief to dry her eyes, Sansa's face was almost the same shade of red as her auburn hair.

"I'm sorry, Lyra. I shouldn't have come to you, with your family fighting for the Crown-but I had nobody else to turn to. I'm sorry for bothering you."

"Shhhhh," Lyra settled her cousin. "You're _never_ a bother Sansa, and don't worry about the details for whom my family fights for. I was torn, myself, when I found out that Robb was fighting and when the Martells would be fighting against him. I felt like I would be losing either way. Now, I am glad that they never fought the North or the Riverlands themselves".

"I married Tyrion and you married the Kingslayer- what have we done? We've shamed our houses. _I've_ shamed my house..."

"No we haven't," Lyra said firmly. "We are women who simply wanted to better our positions in life, and for us, there is no other way than marriage." Lyra lifted her cousin's face to hers, " _Never_ , be ashamed or let anyone else shame you for what you did to survive or to better your position in life." Lyra let her cousin calm before continuing, "as high-borne women, there isn't a whole lot _we can_ do in times of war. Unfortunately, this is the realm of men, and we as women will always be second-class citizens."

"You sound like Margaery Tyrell," Sansa choked out. "She told me something similar."

"Thank the Gods she is to be Queen then."

Sansa gave her a small smile at this. "I promise Sansa. When the Royal Wedding is over, I will take you to Casterly Rock with us."

Sansa looked at her sadly, "I want to go home..."

"I know," Lyra knew that was all that Sansa wanted now, but she didn't think that she could give what she desired most. "I can't take you home unfortunately. I doubt that I have _that_ much power. _But_ I _can_ take you away from this, from the pain that is King's Landing, and I can keep you safe and provide you a roof where you can wander about as if it were home."

"The Rock? It's full of Lannisters..."

"Well, now it will be full of Starks since you and I will be living there," she smiled sadly at her cousin. "I'm sorry that I can't do better for you, but I will do the best I can. I will not _ask_ Jaime if you can come with us; I will _tell_ him that you are coming with us."

* * *

It took over an hour, but Lyra eventually calmed Sansa down enough to walk her back to her own chambers. Leaving the poor girl with her foreign handmaiden, Shea, Lyra began to walk back to her own chambers. Deep in thought about the day's events, she was startled to find Jaime sitting on her bed, seemingly waiting for her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him quietly.

Jaime picked up her sword, Night's Queen, which was still in its scabbard, and pulled it out. Admiring it in his own hand, he said to her, "Well forged." Getting up and swinging it around a bit, he continued, "it's heavier than I expected. You don't look quite _that_ strong. No offense my lady," he added upon seeing Lyra's scowl at his last comment.

Sheathing it and giving the sword back to his wife, she then told him, "I'm _not_ as strong as I was, but that's why I got it out and _practiced_ today," she said with a smile. Giving it a swing, herself, Lyra said, "it still surprises me how quickly we can lose our muscles to atrophy." Struggling to swing it, she had to grip with both hands. "Can you believe that I could swing it with _one hand_ only three months ago?"

Jaime chuckled a little before sitting back down on the bed, "I know you did; I've seen you do it, myself. And if I do say so myself, my wife isn't _half bad_ when it comes to sword fighting."

Putting Night's Queen back in its scabbard, she shot back at him in good nature, "Well, when you're trying to keep up with the Sand Snakes, you learn _very quickly_ to be quite good." Looking sadly at the sword, she couldn't help but to think, _I won't be able to wield a sword again for a few more months_. "The Sand Snakes practically _live and breathe_ to fight," Lyra explained rather humorously.

Sitting at the foot of the bed and Lyra standing in front of him, Jaime couldn't help but to be amazed at her; three moons pregnant, _still_ not showing her bump, and wielding her sword as if nothing had happened. It was easy for him to forget that she was pregnant. Thinking of how Robb Stark's wife had died by being stabbed to death in her pregnant belly, he felt a wave of shame and sadness wash over him. Robb's queen had been a woman foreign of this place, and met such a brutal end in it. Just for being married to a certain man, who happened to be an honorable man in open rebellion against a dishonorable one. _Lyra, you could have easily been in Talisa's place..._ He grabbed her right hand at that thought and rubbed her hand and her callouses, which were now beginning to soften and come off due to lack of wear and tear.

Watching Jaime knit his brow, deep in thought, Lyra wasn't sure what it was about, nor was she sure why he had finally come to her chambers so late; but she raised his chin up with her finger, so that he would look up at her. "I know about Robb..." she trailed off, not sure what to say next. "Sansa...she came to me not too long ago. She was upset, and she had _nobody_ to turn to." Sitting down at the foot of her bed next to her husband, Lyra continued more to herself than to him, "Sansa...she was even ashamed, at first, to come to me. Simply because she thought that being raised a Martell and now married to a Lannister, I would not understand; or worse, that I'd admonish her for her pain."

"Tyrion, he isn't terribly good at comforting people is he?" It wasn't a direct question; more of a statement. Truth be told, no Lannister had ever been good at comforting anyone, _save for Mother, perhaps._ It seemed that Tyrion was like every other Lannister in that regard.

"Well, whether he _is_ or _isn't_ , I still sent for a good vile of Essence of Nightshade from the maester to help her sleep. It'll probably take damn near the lethal dose to knock her out tonight. For which I don't blame her," Putting Night's Queen away, Lyra continued, "I'd be in quite a state myself. _Especially_ , if I'd heard all of the gory details."

At that last sentence, Jaime gave an exasperated sigh; "She wasn't supposed to hear that. It wasn't even meant to leave the Small Council."

A wave of vengeance hit Lyra like a stone wall. "Sansa said that a _knight_ of the King's Guard had told her, though she refused to say _who_. If I ever find out, I'll have his tongue." The harshness in her voice surprised herself, even. Sure, she'd always had a bit of a violent streak, perhaps more so than most. She'd even go as far as to say that she had a talent for violence, even. Before coming to King's Landing, Lyra had never quite considered herself to be talented with the sword, but after seeing many a knight fall victim at the hands of the Sand Snakes, the women whom Lyra regularly went toe to toe with, she was beginning to reconsider how good she was with a sword. Pacing unconsciously, she was deep in thought.

"Lyra," this caught her attention; he rarely referred to his lady wife by first name. She stopped pacing and he grabbed her attention, telling her to sit. Jaime then did something they never did: he pulled Lyra into his lap and put his chin over her shoulder. Face in her neck, he breathed deeply; her smell was spicier but not too spicy. His wife's smell was more like a bite the way the scent of orchids had a bite. In fact, she smelled like sweet spices, like vanilla. Letting his arms fall, Jaime smiled when he felt the faintest little bump beginning to form in her lower abdomen. This all felt too good. Everything he had wanted to do with Cersei in the past; hold her as he was holding Lyra now, hold his own child as he knew he would be able to do with Lyra. Simply _be with her_. That was all he ever wanted, Jaime was beginning to realize. This was something that he had to fight and kill for to do with Cersei, the person who had turned him away and scorned his love in the end; and yet, this was something that Lyra readily allowed him to have without doing anything to gain the mere _chance_ for.

After the late Small Council meeting, Jaime had gone down to the kitchens to drink; something Tyrion joined him in, shortly after he told Sansa about Robb Stark. He'd listened to his little brother's marriage woes as a good brother would. Then, when Tyrion asked how Jaime's own marriage was going, Jaime hadn't meant to say it, but he found himself telling Tyrion everything about Lyra. When he was finished, Tyrion looked at him with surprise and said the unexpected.

"Well, well, big brother. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd love another woman," he knew what Tyrion meant; a woman who was _not_ Cersei.

"I don't love her. I can't. Lyra, herself knows it; she tried to tell me once, and then she stopped herself. She pretended as if nothing had happened, and I pretended not to hear her," he admitted to his little brother, painfully. It hurt to know that someone loved you, but that you could not love them back.

"Jaime," Tyrion said, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, "I'll admit: I'm fairly knew to the ways of love myself, but I _do_ know it when I see it."

Both brothers finished their wine before Tyrion continued, "Don't let _her_ keep you twisted up inside. I know that you won't believe me when I say this, but I don't believe that you ever loved her. You never speak of her beyond...familial ties, even when you have had the opportunity. I don't even believe that you're _fond_ of her other than as a sister. You've never known so many personal details about her the way you do about Lyra, _and_ you've never been torn up about her opinion of you, or whether or not you can return her feelings or not."

Jaime scoffed at his brother's words, but Tyrion would not be deterred. "It is the people whom we truly care about who's opinions matter the most or not. Whether you notice it or not, you're in love with Lyra, or you are beginning to love her."

Coming back to the present, Jaime awoke from his thoughts when Lyra asked him if he was alright. "Yes," he quickly answered her, "I'm just tired. It's been a long day and it's getting late."

Both of them stripped, and got into bed. Lyra had even skipped brushing her hair for the night. Jaime could tell when he lulled her to sleep stroking it's her dark hair and feeling unusual roughness. _You're in my heart pretty deeply Lyra. If you hadn't been, I could have easily told you about my past with Cersei._ Jaime had come to Lyra tonight with every intention of telling her, but he found that he was unable to get that heavy weight off his shoulders. Not when he realized that he would lose everything, when he thought he'd be freed. He knew that the moment Lyra found out the truth, she'd be gone from him emotionally. _Since when have you come to mean so much?_

* * *

 **Author's Note: So this is my own interpretation of the series. I felt that Jaime never actually loved Cersei, though he often thought he did. It seemed to me like he never knew what real love was, and that Cersei had sort of manipulated him into believing that he loved her so that he would be the one person who'd never leave her. I _hate_ making Cersei out to be "the evil bitch", but I'm really not trying to in this case. I think that deep down, Cersei is very lonely, and she was just as starved for something even close to love and ****affection from Robert when they were first married. She never sought Jaime out until their marriage soured.**

 **Just my own interpretation!**

 **Things finally take a turn for the worse in the next chapter.**


	13. Chapter 13: The Purple Wedding

**The Purple Wedding**

Lyra awoke in Jaime's arms, but seeing as it was still dark outside, she decided to snuggle back into the crook of his arm and to try to fall back asleep. She was four months pregnant and the babe was making her sleepier than usual, and considering that the royal wedding was today, Lyra felt that she needed to adequately rest up for the big day ahead of her. She smiled as Jaime put his hand over her slight baby bump, doing so almost instinctively. She knew that her husband would never admit it, but Lyra knew that he was secretly excited for the babe to come.

After falling back asleep for some time, Lyra and Jaime were awaken by Joyce, her new handmaiden. Lyra had requested a Lannister handmaiden from her father in law, Lord Tywin, so that she may be able to be a more "proper" Lannister lady. Something that she knew Tywin was more than happy to do as that very day, Ashara had to concede to Joyce as another handmaiden; something the Dornish handmaiden was very displeased about until Lyra assured her that she is and always will be, her favorite handmaiden and friend. Currently though, Joyce was opening the curtains, letting the harsh sunlight in to wake Lyra and Jaime while also giving them privacy.

Yawning and stretching, Jaime told Joyce sleepily, "I get the message", before he left to get ready for the wedding. Pulling his clothes on, he kissed Lyra on her forehead as she began waking up. "See you at the wedding." He then left for his chambers.

After Jaime left, Joyce handed Lyra her robe and set a tray of food down on the table for her. "Thought you may want to break your fast in peace this morning my lady. It will be a stressful day for you; being the royal wedding and all while you're pregnant," Joyce told her thoughtfully.

"Thank you for such consideration Joyce," Lyra thanked her as she ate a piece of bacon. Indeed, ever since Lyra found out about Robb and the manner in which he and her aunt Cat were killed, Lyra only spent as much time as she had to with her Lannister family, as did Sansa. In fact, her and Sansa often broke their fasts together ever since that tragic event. For Sansa, it was a welcomed reprieve as the two women often sat in silence; for Lyra, it was her way of a silent protest against her Lannister family for murdering her Stark family in such a dishonorable way.

Tyrion, being as smart as he is, caught on to Lyra's ploy quite quickly. Lyra had avoided all of the Lannisters except for Jaime for a week until Tyrion finally cornered her in the main library. After a little small talk, her good brother suddenly became sullen, and lowering his voice, said, "I'm sorry about your cousin and aunt my lady. The manner in which they died, under guest rights no less, was truly dishonorable." Lyra thanked him, but told him that they were unnecessary; this was war and she knew that Robb and Cat would meet their demise eventually. To which Tyrion remarked, "True, but they were your family none the less." In truth, Lyra _was_ very sad about their deaths, though she knew that it had all been inevitable, this knowledge did nothing to soften the blow.

Wanting to change the subject of their conversation, Lyra then inquired as to the book Tyrion was reading. It was about dragons; he'd had a fascination with dragons and the Targaryens ever since he was a boy. Lyra, knowing much about both subjects from being Ellia's niece and spending much time in the Capitol before Robert's Rebellion, began a conversation with her good brother on the subject, to which he was delighted. Their conversation then turned into a long stroll around the gardens. Ever since that day, she and Tyrion began to have tea together quite regularly.

Stretching a bit after finishing her tea, Lyra's other handmaiden, Ashara, came in to help her dress for the Royal Wedding. Once Joyce had seen Ashara arrive to help her lady dress, she immediately pulled out a dress before Ashara could even get over to Lyra's wardrobe. The two women stared each other down for a few seconds, clearly they disapproved of the other. Ashara had stubbornly stuck to her more Dornish attires in Lyra's service, much to Joyce's distaste as she felt that as Lyra was now a Lannister, her handmaidens should both look the part; and Joyce stubbornly insisted that Lyra dress more like a Lannister and tried to adorn her lady in crimson reds and bright golds, while scorning all of Lyra's more Dornish clothes and Stark and Martell colored fabrics, much to Ashara's distaste.

"My lady, your gown arrived yesterday from the seamstress," Joyce said as she showed Lyra the rich velvety gown with a deep v-neck lined in gold colored silk to show off her delicate decollatetage. It was stunning with its deep crimson color and intricate gold floral stitches, but much to Lyra's chagrin, it was similar to the fashion Cersei liked to wear with its elongated sleeves lined in the same silk that lined the neck line and an intricate gold metal belt with a red jewel in the middle. All that was missing were the gold panels on the sides of the gown adorned with red Lannister lions, and it could easily pass for on of Cersei's gowns. Lyra was starting to regret asking Joyce to help her with the design as the woman clearly admired Cersei's sense of fashion. _At least the belt is different_. The belt was intricately woven pieces of metal instead of the armor-like belts Cersei preferred.

Her handmaidens laced her into the gown, which was very comfortable actually as it was completely lined in silk; Lyra still had not gotten used to the relative coldness of King's Landing, and it absolutely eluded her as to how in the Seven Hells Margaery was able to wear those plunging necklines and sleeveless gowns without freezing to death. Sitting Lyra down at her dressing table, Joyce brought out a box, "I retrieved them from Lord Tywin on your behalf," she told Lyra after seeing her questioning look, "your husband told me that his wife should look the part of the future Lady of Casterly Rock." Opening the rather large box, Lyra saw a number of beautiful bangles, necklaces, earrings, and rings, all in gold and adorned in rich colored jewels, some of which were larger than she'd seen Arienne herself wear. Joyce chose a chocker that matched Lyra's gown and had gold chains draping over it with a ruby at her throat, and Lyra held up her hair as she snapped the gold clasp on her neck. The earrings she chose for Lyra were gold lion studs with tear drop cut rubies hanging from the mouths.

"Such thick beautiful raven hair you have my lady," Joyce commented as she and Ashara brushed Lyra's hair.

"Of course she does," Ashara said with pride as she threw back her own thick blonde hair over her shoulder, "she is Dornish; we have the thickest hair in all of Westeros."

Joyce chose to ignore the other blonde's comment. "How would you like it styled my lady? The hairstyle the Queen has made popular in court would look most lovely on you!"

"Oh, I'll just wear it down like I usually do Joyce," Lyra said until she saw the look of disapproval on the handmaiden's face, "but I suppose that today _is_ a special occasion," Lyra recovered. They ended up compromising on a half up-hair style similar to the Queen to be's, except Lyra's hair was too thick. Joyce and Ashara ended up braiding the sides of Lyra's hair and twisting it into a beautiful bun, painfully pinning it to keep it in place. They pulled a few strands in front to frame her face and weaved some thin red ribbons into her bun so they would flow long down her back with the rest of her hair.

When her handmaidens were finally done dressing her, Lyra stood back and looked in the looking glass. She looked the perfect Lannister wife, which made her feel beautiful and elegant, but lacking in the Stark and Martell accents she loved to have. Grabbing her brush and some kohl, Lyra was going to line her eyes in the shape of a wolf's when Joyce suddenly gasped, "My lady! You are married to a Lannister! It does not suit a Lannister wife to line her eyes in kohl as the Dornish of Sunspear."

"Fine then," Lyra snapped, "I'll line them like a cat's." Ashara suppressed a giggle at this, she loved it when Lyra rebelled against the customs of the Westernlands. Joyce clucked her tongue before Lyra asked her, "I'm feeling a bit sluggish. Be a dear and get me more tea please?"

When Joyce left, Ashara spoke, "I think lined eyes are far superior to the Westernland's style. Practical for keeping the sun from harming the eye and bringing out the beauty of the Dornish eye."

Lyra smiled at this, Ashara was so loyal to her. She was happy that the woman had chosen to stay in her service. She would make sure that Lyra did not stray too far from her roots. "Will you please fetch me my silver ring?"

"The one with the dire wolf? Won't it be mismatched with all of your gold?"

"Nonsense! I'll wear my family's ring on my left hand and the gold rings on my right," hardly anybody will notice.

* * *

Lyra could only stare at Margeary's gown. It _was_ _stunning_ to be sure, but the plunging neckline and the halter top barely covering her breasts? That was a bit much. Though Lyra supposed that given the fact that the woman was marrying the King of Pricks, she needed to keep him interested. Lyra stood between Sansa and Jaime, who looked quite dashing himself; they had gotten many comments about what a lovely couple they looked and how if Lord Tywin weren't there to remind them, they would have sworn that Lyra and Jaime were already Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock. Even Tyrion commented that they looked quite the couple, exactly how a picture perfect lord and lady Lannister should look. Poor Sansa looked as grim as ever. Lyra took her cousin's hand and gave her a sad smile before whispering to her, "Don't worry. We will be headed far away from this awful place very soon." Indeed, Lyra, Jaime, Sansa and Tyrion were ordered by Tywin to go to the Rock two days after the wedding. Sansa gave Lyra a sad smile in acknowledgment. _Sansa has suffered enough. She deserves to be well cared for for the rest of her life, and I intend to make sure that happens._ Lyra had learned the importance of family, and she felt sad that Sansa did not have her family anymore. She intended for Sansa to feel just as much at home and welcomed at the Rock as Lyra herself would be.

Mace Tyrell gave Margeary away to Joffrey, who grandly and lovingly kissed the bride to impress the fawning crowd, much to Lyra, Tyrion, Sansa, and Jaime's disgust, knowing what an awful little shit the King was.

"We have a new Queen," Sansa said to nobody in particular, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Better her than you," Lyra heard Tyrion reply to her cousin.

 _Indeed_ , Lyra thought smugly, looking over at Cersei, who was failing at trying to seem happy about her son's marriage, _Cersei is_ not _going to be pleased_.

* * *

At the feast, Lyra lost track of how many courses had been served after the twelfth. The Crown was clearly trying to show off its wealth...

As the next course was coming up, Lyra turned to Jaime, "Pardon my rudeness, but this is a bit excessive. It's hard to enjoy the food when I can only take a couple of bites."

Taking a gulp of his wine, Jaime responded, "I agree. I'm not one much for feasts myself." Standing up, he held his hand out to Lyra, "Shall we go for a stroll my lady?"

Gladly taking his hand, Lyra quickly checked Sansa who seemed to be happily speaking with the new queen and Lady Olenna. Figuring that her cousin would be alright with the Queen and the Queen of Thorns, Lyra let Jaime lead her away from the table on the platform where the Royal family was sitting. The wedding crowd thinned out as they walked closer to the edge of the gardens that entered into the Red Keep. "We're not going for a stroll are we?" Lyra asked as they got closer to the Red Keep.

Walking her over to a bench surrounded by shrubs, they sat down, "No. Is that alright with you?"

"It's a beautiful day, I'd rather be enjoying it with you," Lyra stated earnestly.

"Beautiful day and a beautiful woman to share it with. Which by the way, I have been an awful husband today; you _do_ look stunning. _Radiant_ actually." Jaime was finding that he found Lyra to be even more beautiful while she was pregnant, whether it was the fact that her figure had become more womanly, her hair thicker, or her skin glowing, he wasn't sure. Honestly though, it was mostly due to the fact that he loved her and he knew that she loved him, and he was able to openly love her as she openly loved him. He found it cute when she blushed and shifted her eyes down a little in embarrassment before looking back up at him, "You look quite dashing yourself my lord." Gently kissing her, he leaned his forehead against hers and looked deeply into her beautiful rich chestnut eyes. "I love you Lyra," it was barely over a whisper.

Lyra felt butterflies in her stomach, she thought she'd never hear those words, "I love you too Jaime," she whispered back. This was the most content and happiest she'd truly felt in a long time; she had a husband who loved her, there was very little stress in her life, and what was left of her family was happy and enjoying themselves for once without many worries.

Pulling her into a deep kiss, Lyra felt strangely calm and almost giddy with happiness. Their kiss becoming more and more passionate, Lyra blissfully closed her eyes as Jaime kissed the sensitive part of her throat, eliciting a small moan from Lyra. She gasped when she felt him massage her breast and pull down the front of her dress to kiss her engorged breasts. Pulling Lyra into his lap, Jaime lifted her skirts up and had her straddle his waist.

"Jaime!" Lyra loudly whispered, shocked. She was afraid that people would see them.

"Don't worry. They're all at the feast and the shrubs are covering us from any possible on-lookers in the distance," he soothed her as he continued to fondle and suck her breasts, the cold air making her nipples stiff. Felling Lyra giving in, Jaime unlaced his breeches and pulled them down enough before entering her hot, wet core. Lyra leaned her head back and let out a soft, strangled moan at the contact. Jaime however, didn't want to take his eyes off her; they'd always had sex in muted light, this was the first time in pure daylight and he didn't want to miss how beautiful Lyra was when they fucked in daylight. Using jaime for leverage, she began to meet his thrusts which were becoming deeper and deeper as he figured how to use the bench and the ground beneath his feet for leverage. _Gods this is the best!_ Lyra would say that this was the best sex she'd ever had. Either due to the mood or lighting or both, she didn't care. Right now, her world only consisted of Jaime and herself and the loving pleasure they were feeling. Lyra moaned into Jaime's mouth as she gradually came around his cock, this time was different though. Her orgasm felt like multiple orgasms as her contractions kept fluttering around his hard member. Jaime soon followed her over the edge of pleasure and he felt himself cum harder than usual due to Lyra's non-stop very pleasurable contractions. He had to admit, he was finding sex with Lyra to be more pleasurable and fulfilling than it ever was with Cersei. He could take his time enjoying his wife body and her love. He could enjoy taking his time loving her. There was no rush at all, they had all the time in the world to make things nice, slow, and loving, and they could draw out their pleasure as much as they wanted.

Recovering, they straightened themselves back up. Both being careful not to let his seed stain their clothes or else they'd be had. Taking Jaime's hand in hers after she'd straightened her skirts back out, Lyra let out a soft laugh as she wiped some sweat from her husband's brow and kissed him softly sighing with happiness. Jaime could honestly say that this was the happiest and most carefree he'd been in a very long time, and he didn't want it to end; but their presence at the feast would soon be missed. "I suppose we should get back."

"I guess so," Lyra said, fixing the top of her dress, "Does my hair look alright? Anything out of place or smudged?"

"No," he told her, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, "In fact, I'd say you look even more radiant than before." This earned him a pretty smile from Lyra.

Taking her hand, they began the walk back. Their bliss suddenly cut by a shriek.

"Somebody help him!"

Jaime and Lyra looked at each other, "That can't be good." Lyra picked up her skirts and they ran towards the commotion.

The crowd was thick with spectators. Taking Lyra's hand in his, Jaime yelled, "Out of the way!" As he pulled them through the crowd to see Cersei and Trant attempting to pry Joffrey's mouth open, who was clearly chocking. Everything that happened next was a blur to Lyra, but she knew one thing for sure as she watched Joffrey chock to death, _There's blood coming from his eyes, nose and mouth..._ Looking over at her uncle who made eye contact with her, almost knowingly, Lyra thought to herself, _something isn't right with this scene..._

* * *

Jaime took Lyra to her, well, _their_ chambers before following his father and Cersei as Tyrion was escorted in chains by the Kings Guard.

"I did not do this!" Tyrion kept shouting.

"I will have your head! Take him to one of the Black Cells!" Cersei screeched.

Lord Tywin, cool headed and detached as always, addressed the guards, "Take him to a tower cell." Turning to Jaime he said, "escort the Queen back to her chambers and have the Maester bring her a drought to help calm her nerves."

Cersei clung to him the entire journey to her chambers. Shutting the doors, Cersei ran to Jaime and cried into his shoulder.

"Our son is dead! Our beautiful baby boy is dead," she grieved. Anger coursing through her, red faced from crying hysterically, " _he_ did it! Him and Sansa both! Nobody can find her! They hated him and they both wanted him dead! He told me; a day will come when you think you are safe and happy and your joy will turn to ash in your mouth!"

"Cersei," Jaime tried to calm his sister, "We _don't_ know that's true. He will have a trial-"

"He will have no trial! I want him dead! And where was Lyra?! That little bitch has been with Sansa constantly since Robb's death! I'm certain she had something to do with it as well! Did you not see the look on her face as Joffrey was chocking?!"

Feeling his blood go cold from guilt, he told her, "Lyra had nothing to do with this Cersei. We took a walk together. We weren't anywhere near the feast. I was with her the whole time."

"Jaime," his beautiful sister took his face in her hands as her gaze softened and she got the look in her eyes when she was trying to seduce him, "father is trying to marry me off again. Tommen will need me; he is to be the next King because that monster killed his brother." Her face getting close to his, "I need my brother. I need my twin." She said this beginning to slip off her gown. "The guards will let _you_ past them-"

"Cersei, please. Enough!"

She looked as if he had just slapped her, "What? Because you're married? Remember all the times we fucked as I was married to Robert?"

Jaime looked her dead in the eyes, "You hated Robert. I don't hate Lyra. You pushed me away Cersei. I love Lyra."

Realization hitting Cersei like a bucket of cold water, she pulled her gown back on and her gaze hardened, "You were _fucking her weren't you?!_ As our son was being murdered?! Get out!" She shrieked.

Jaime didn't need to be told twice.

Watching the door close behind him, Cersei felt sad and alone. _Father doesn't care. Jaime doesn't care. I lost my son to some wicked little bitch from Highgarden and I will probably lose my other son to her as well. And now I've lost my brother to some Dornish Stark bitch. How could I have been so_ blind?! She admonished herself until Maester Pycell came in with dream wine to help calm her nerves. Seeing the wretched old man made her remember that the fool fails to keep stock of his own moon tea. _I_ can _get my brother back, and I will!_

* * *

Lyra waited for Jaime to come back. She took her gown off herself and started getting ready for bed to calm her nerves. The menial tasks of undoing her hair and taking her eyeliner off was distracting enough. Now, she was only in her silk shift and purple robe, waiting in a chair sipping some dream wine she had left over from another night.

She was beginning to grow drowsy when Jaime came in, startling her. "Is Tyrion going to be alright? What's happening?" She asked as she hurried over to him.

Unnerved by Cersei, Jaime took his wife in his arms and held her, to soothe both himself and her. "I don't know..." Was all he could say, "Tyrion will get a trial, but...I doubt it will be a fair one." Releasing her, he took her face in his hands, "Sansa has fled. Cersei wants her head on a spike as well. Cersei also believes that you may have had something to do with murdering her son. I fear that you may possibly be in danger." At this, Jaime saw Lyra's hand touch her stomach protectively as worry flashed through her eyes.

"She can bring whatever she wants to," Lyra said bravely, "I think she'll find me quite difficult to kill."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jaime chuckled a bit, _Lyra, you_ are _fierce aren't you?_


	14. Chapter 14: A Plot at a Funeral

**Author's Note: Hey-yo! Sorry for such a late update, I have been having a lot of exams. I've decided to change the title from "Lone Wolf of the Rock" to "Lone Wolf of the House Lannister". I'm not so sure about this title change though and I'm finding myself torn 50/50 as to which one I prefer. Mind to help me decide?**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Plot at a Funeral**

Lyra and Jaime surprisingly slept quite soundly despite everything that had happened the previous few days. Jaime had doubled the guards outside their chambers, getting rid of the Lannister guards whom he either didn't know or could not completely trust, and replaced them with Lannister soldiers whom he knew for sure that he could trust. He had even gotten his old childhood friend, Ser Adam Marbrand to leave the City Watch and promoted him to head guard protecting Lyra. Joffrey's body had now been laid in state in the Sept of Baelor for three days now, and Jaime was beginning to feel guilty for not having yet paid his respects to his own flesh and blood. This was due to the fact that he was much more concerned for Lyra and her safety, but also, Jaime guiltily admitted to himself, he found that Joffrey's death did not phase him at all; in fact, Jaime even considered the death of the king to have been a blessing for the realm, instead of a tragedy. After observing Joffrey's behavior over the past five months he'd been back, Jaime had come to the conclusion that Joffrey was slowly becoming Aerys III with the incompetence of King Robert I. _Tyrion was right_ , he mused to himself, _we've been cursed with mad kings, cruel kings, vicious kings, and stupid kings; but we had never been cursed with a king with all four qualities until Joffrey I._

Getting up from the bed, he decided to go on ahead and dress to pay his respects to the dead king. He'd gotten tired of having to go back and forth between his chambers and Lyra's, so he had her things moved to his chambers to remedy the issue.

"Going somewhere?" A voice asked him groggily.

He must have woken Lyra when he got out of the bed and began to dress. "I think it's time I paid my respects to my dead king," Jaime responded quietly. He was always very careful not to call Joffrey anything but "king"; in fact, Jaime never even referred to Joffrey as his nephew in fear that his wife may ask him if the rumors about Cersei and himself are true.

"Let me come with you," Lyra yawned and stretched at this before getting out of bed to dress herself.

* * *

Cersei was already in the Sept of Baelor standing vigil over her oldest son, as she had been for the past three days and nights. Her beloved child who'd become King. She wept at first when she saw his lifeless body, it was so surreal to her at first; she'd had flashbacks of holding him when he was first born, oh how much he looked like her and Jaime! He was as if her and Jaime had been reborn into this small little bundle of perfection, but now, he was gone and her heart was broken.

Her daughter had been taken, shipped off to Dorne; her eldest son was now dead; and now her brother had been taken from her by some Stark whore. Cersei felt her blood boil at all of this. It was all Tyrion and the Starks' fault! But soon, they would all pay dearly for what they'd done...soon, she would see Tyrion's head rotting on a spike, just like Robb and Ned Stark's, as soon as Sansa was found, her head would be joining them, and as for Lyra, oh did Cersei have a long and painful death devised for that little bitch.

As Cersei contemplated having her revenge on everyone very soon (it helped to ease the agonizing pain over the death of her golden son), she was also waiting patiently for someone. Granted, her original intent was to stand the seven day vigil over her son's rotting corpse, she was also waiting for the arrival of somebody who was about to help her feel much less lonely.

Not long after day-break, the doors of the sept opened as one of Cersei's hand maidens sauntered in wearing all black robes out of respect for the dead king.

"Do you have it?" She asked her without taking her eyes off her son's body.

"Yes your Grace," he responded in turn, handing the Queen Regent a small box of herbs. Out of curiosity and concern, she asked her, "it was easy to obtain given the fact that the Grand Maester has been quite pre-occupied with the good King Joffrey's death. However I must ask though, why do you want the moon tea? And why do you want it mixed among other herbs used to brew tea? I do not mean to pry but-"

Annoyed and paranoid, Cersei sharply replied, cutting Baelish off, "The reason why I need them is none of your concern, and you'd be wise to stay out of my personal business".

"Of course my grace. Please forgive me," she responded swiftly with a slight bow. She knew that the Queen was now on her way to a war path as soon as the mourning period was over, and she did _not_ want to be on the list of people she wanted dead or imprisoned. To further this, she decided to stand vigil with the Queen and offer her words of condolences. None of which she seemed to hear though.

Looking at the pouch of herbs mixed with moon tea, Cersei couldn't help but to feel a sense of hope beginning to gleam in the dark tunnel that was currently her life. This afternoon, she was going to host a tea for Margery, Lyra and a couple of other ladies of the court under the guise that it was to offer condolences to the freshly widowed Margeary. Lyra would be around five months along in her pregnancy, and the Moon Tea should do the trick she thought to herself.

* * *

Lyra and Jaime walked together with to the Sept of Baelor with their guards closely trailing them. Opening the large doors, they saw Cersei in all black mourning clothes standing vigil over Joffery's dead body, as Lord Tywin, Prince Tommen, Ser Loras and Lady Margaery looked on. Though Lyra knew that her life could possibly be in danger because of Cersei, she also couldn't help but to feel sorry for the woman. Cersei _was_ Lyra's good sister after all, and she looked terrible. Despite trying to look at elegant and composed as possible, the Queen looked absolutely exhausted, there were dark circles under her eyes, they were puffy, and the serious lack of sleep was making her face look older than she actually was. Though Cersei didn't even flinch when Jaime and Lyra walked in, Ser Loras walked over and greeted them, "my lord, my lady," he acknowledged them with a nod, "I'm terribly sorry for the loss of your nephew the King. Such a terrible crime that King Joffrey's reign ended before it had hardly began and that he won't see to his triumphant end of the War of the Five Kings."

Though Lyra didn't completely trust the Tyrells, and she had a feeling that Jaime didn't either given his guarded look at Loras. They both accepted his words of kindness though.

"I'm sorry for your loss your Grace, losing your son, and for you Lady Margeary, losing your beloved husband so soon after your wedding," Lyra offered, trying to break the uncomfortable silence. Cersei thanked her for her "kind words" without looking at her and Margeary thanked her with a smile before asking Jaime, "Mind if I steal your wife for a while? I'm supposed to be having tea and I would like it very much if Lady Lyra would be kind enough to join us."

"It won't be any trouble at all. I'm sure that Ser Adam would not mind to escort me." Lyra wanted any excuse to get out of that sept.

Watching Lyra leave, Cersei was barely heard mumbling, "they left in a hurry."

Lord Tywin began speaking to Tommen about what Joffrey's death meant and what it means to be a good king. Jaime was beginning to wish that he could simply disappear.

* * *

Ser Loras and Ser Addam left the two women to have their tea in the gardens, while Ser Addam, Lyra knew, would be nearby.

"My, haven't we been through a lot in the past year," Lady Margeary began as the tea was brought out. "Me, losing two husbands, and you Lady Lyra, marrying a man whom you probably never even dreamt you'd be marrying and your family joining a war in which they were siding against your other family."

"Yes," Lyra replied, "it seems as if we have. Is this rose hip tea?" She asked, smelling it; it smelled like rose hip, but there was something a little off about it.

"Yes!" Margeary brightened, "although I'm afraid that this is my family's secret recipe for rose hip tea: our signature tea if you will. We _are_ roses us Tyrells after all."

Lyra had to smile at this, it reminded her of Dorne. Her and her mother would often have rose hip tea with a hint of lemon peel at Sunspear. Oh how she missed her home! Though she questioned the safety of the tea, especially with such a strange and different smell, it _had_ been poured from the same pot as Margeary's. Tasting it a little, it certainly didn't _taste_ something poisonous; more it was sweeter than most rose hip tea. Laughing at her own paranoia, Lyra drained her cup. "It's very good. Thank you for sharing some of your fine family tea," she told the other lady with a smile. "Sansa told me that you shared some with her as well. You and your grandmother."

Margeary's smile faltered a little before recovering, "Where do you think Sansa is now?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Lyra said, disinterested, as she started another cup, "but I hope that it's far away from here."

"You don't think she did it?" Lady Margeary asked, now genuinely curious. "or at least knew of it?"

"Not at all. Sansa has always been a rather whimsical girl who mostly just wants to please and simply wanted to see her family again. She's never really been very interested in having power as far as I've known her either. Sure Joffrey beat her and frightened her everyday of her life, but this sort of thing is beyond her. Poison? Pft." Lyra drank her tea before continuing, "but Sansa's not why you've asked me here is it?"

"Loras is to marry Cersei after I have married Tommen, and I worry for my brother" Margeary said, getting to the point.

"You and I have a common enemy then, Cersei would love to see me as dead as her brother and my cousin right now" Lyra knew that whatever it was, Margeary was getting at it, and it was about Cersei.

"Don't worry, Cersei doesn't want your brother nor Highgarden. In all honesty, I'm not quite sure what will be safest; keep her here as the Queen Mother with you to watch her, or send her with Loras to Highgarden where she has no friends and can be watched at all times. Though I feel the latter is safest, but you will have a better feel for that when you're Queen. However, I do know one thing," Lyra touched her belly subconsciously, "she _won't_ be coming to the Rock."

"So then I can count on your friendship and confidence when I'm Queen?" Margeary asked Lyra seriously.

"I'd like nothing more," Lyra said earnestly smiling.

* * *

Later in the evening, Lyra heard from Ser Addam that Jaime wouldn't be joining her for some time, having family business to take care of. After undressing for the evening, Lyra had Ashara bring her tea. The tea was particularly sweet today, or was it just her pregnancy? Lyra couldn't tell. Tucking her legs under herself, she sat down on the couch for a long read. A while and a couple of cups later, her uncle, Prince Oberyn, came in to join her.

"Lyra, I'm terribly sorry I have not seen much of you lately, being here has had me quite busy," Oberyn hugged her and kissed her on her forehead. Lyra had missed her uncle dearly.

Sitting in a chair across from her, he laughed and threw out his arms, smiling, "Look at you! My beautiful niece! I remember the day you were born, Meria was so exhausted that she passed right out after she nursed you for the first time. Then I got to hold you, and you were so tiny and such a delicate little thing that I thought if I accidentally held you less than gently, you might break some how! Now, here you are. Married! Even if it is to the Kingslayer, and pregnant with a babe of your own." He exclaimed happily.

Lyra smiled and shook her head. Even though she'd told her uncle that Jaime was treating her very well and that she was happy being with him, Oberyn would never warm up to the idea that Jaime could be more than just the man who couldn't protect Elia, Rhaenys, and baby Aegon. "Uncle, will you _ever_ be able to give Jaime a chance?" Lyra laughed.

"Never," he said with his stubborn smile, "especially since he's taken you."

She supposed not.

"Tea uncle? It's quite good."

"No, I'm afraid I'll have to stick with wine. Please tell me that the Kingslayer at least knows his wine?"

Lyra laughed softly as she got up and got Oberyn a glass of wine. This was why she'd missed him; he could possibly make misery itself laugh. Handing him the wine, she considered her uncle for a second before asking, "Do you really think they'll convict Tyrion? I really don't believe he killed Joffrey, nor do I believe that Sansa was involved." She asked very seriously.

Taking a drink he sighed, "I'm sorry Lyra. You know that King's Landing is not a place where people usually get justice. Cersei is mounting a solid case against him, even if it involves _falsifying and exaggerating_ many things. I've been asked to be one of the three judges at the Imp's trial."

"Please don't call him that," Lyra said quietly.

Oberyn raised an eyebrow at this, "As I last recall _you_ yourself called him the "Imp" last we spoke of him."

"I know," Lyra said meeting his gaze, "and I'm sorry I did. He's not a bad man uncle, he's been genuinely good to Sansa even though he didn't have to be. She told me that he never even took her, telling her that he wouldn't until she wanted him to. Even if it meant never." Thinking for a second, she added, "I've spent a lot of time getting to know Lord Tyrion and I think that he is actually a man much like Prince Doran."

"I see," Oberyn said quietly, "so they've made a real Lannister out of you."

Lyra was genuinely sad to hear this. _He thinks they've turned me away from Dorne and my family?_ Getting up to stand next to him, she looked him in the eye and assured him, "If anything coming here, marrying Jaime Lannister, and having the Lannisters for a family; has made me realize how wrong I've been. I'll always be a Stark in name, but Dorne will _always_ be my home, and the Martells will _always_ be my family."

Oberyn smiled and raised his glass to her, "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," and drank to the words.

Lyra was going to join him when she felt a sharp pain. Gasping, she leaned against the couch, "I'm fine! I'm fine." Breathing hard, another, stronger pain hit her, forcing her to the floor. Moaning in pain, Lyra screamed when another sharper pain shot through her, followed by a dull horrible ache in her lower back following through to her lower abdomen. She literally felt the gush of fluid come out of her. "This isn't right! I'm not fine!" Was all she could get out.

Oberyn picked his sweating, bleeding niece up off the floor and carried her to the bed. Running to the hallway, the guards were shocked to see the Prince of Dorne with blood on his gold coat. "Get the maester! Hurry!"

Running back inside, he saw Lyra dry heave before vomiting, while blood gushed from her. Oberyn had spent time in the Citadel learning about poisons, and this didn't look like any poisoning symptoms nor any normal miscarriage to him. _The tea!_ Picking up the cup Lyra had been drinking, it smelled like rose tea but when he drank it, it was too sweet for rose tea.

* * *

Jaime couldn't sit. _My brother is in prison and now my wife could be dying!_ Was all that was running through his head. He was heading back from the Tower of the Hand by the time Ser Addam had gotten him. Arriving to the rooms he shared with Lyra, there were Dornish guards barring anyone's passage. Prince Oberyn and Grand Maester Pycelle had been in their rooms for hours now. He'd seen Ashara come running in and out with linens in colors ranging from pink to crimson. Joyce had been banned from the room by Prince Oberyn, so she had settled for saving Ashara time by grabbing fresh linens and waiting outside with Jaime. Finally Pycelle and Ashara came out, Pycelle was muttering to himself about how he didn't understand what went wrong before seeing Jaime.

"My-my sincerest condolences my lord."

Jaime's heart dropped, "Is she?"

"No my lord, she's alive, but barely. The babe however," he said looking at the bloody pile of linens Joyce was currently helping Ashara carry, "she lost it. I don't know-I'm sorry."

Prince Oberyn came out and motioned for Jaime to come in. "We need to talk."

Jaime hurried over to Lyra who was asleep, but very pale and wet from sweat. "How did this happen?" She had been quite healthy and lively when he'd seen her that afternoon.

Prince Oberyn poured himself wine and Jaime just noticed that the Prince's golden coat was covered in blood. "It was _very_ lucky that I was here and that I studied at the Citadel. Tansy is not usually used to poison, but when a woman far along in her pregnancy like Lyra drinks too much of it, it may as well be poison." He drank heavily at this.

"Tansy?"

"The Tansy flower, also more commonly known as Moontea when dried and brewed, but usually used by women to prevent pregnancy. Lyra has likely been drinking it in her usual tea without even knowing." The prince picked up a cup with tea in it, "rose hip tea, my niece's favorite, also very good for masking the scent and smell of moontea; actually making the tea taste unusually sweet." Draining the cup of wine, the prince poured himself another, "Lyra wouldn't even know the smell or taste of moontea, reasons for which I'm sure you know why," he added to Jaime. "However somebody else would. Somebody else who perhaps wanted Lyra dead, but had no knowledge of poisons, yet much knowledge on ensuring against a pregnancy." Stoping before leaving, Prince Oberyn looked at Jaime darkly, "Somebody, whom I believe _you know._ "

Watching the prince leave, Jaime sat back down next to his wife. Moving the matted hair stuck to her face, he kissed her forehead before whispering to her, "I'm so sorry Lyra."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Very Rough draft, but I haven't posted in a long time so I wanted to go ahead and get this out!**


	15. Chapter 15: Recovering

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I'm sorry about killing off Lyra's baby. It made me unhappy to do so, but Cersei was bound to try and get Jaime back eventually; and considering the fact that this is Cersei we are talking about, she's likely to try to kill off her rival (Lyra) to get to Jaime so that he'd have nobody left to turn to for love other than her. It just felt more in character for Cersei.**

 **Anyways, on with the show!**

 **^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Recovering**

Opening her eyes, the bright light almost hurt, however, Lyra could mostly focus on how cold she was. She was freezing! Opening her eyes, she saw a figure sitting next to her, but she couldn't quite make out who the figure was due to the light shinning. Sitting up, she suddenly got a horrible headache and felt dizzy. Groaning and closing her eyes, Lyra heard a voice.

"Lyra-" It sounded familiar.

Trying to move her legs, Lyra could only moan as she felt nothing but pain shoot up her her body.

"Lyra, try not to move too much. You've lost a lot of blood." The voice sounded like Jaime. She felt him stroking her left hand with his left hand.

"Water," her throat felt like one of the deserts of Dorne. Draining the glass, she was parched, her headache felt a little better, but she still felt the need to lie back down and rest her head. Trying to remember how she got there in the first place, Lyra's mind swam. She felt her belly and the little bulge she'd had was now gone, her eyes watered as she asked, "It's gone. Isn't it?" She didn't even know the child growing inside of her, but her heart ached for it. She supposed in a way she mourned the child she'd never have and the memories she thought she'd have. Those were no longer a possibility.

"I'm so sorry," he said to her sadly, "You're lucky to be alive right now, though." Pushing her tangled hair from her face, she was still very pale and sick looking, "Please. Don't focus on that right now. Please, just focus on getting better. It's not the end, Lyra; Maester Pycelle says that there's no reason that you won't be able to have more." Kissing her hand, "You need to get strong and healthy again though."

Wanting to cry, but unable to, Lyra didn't want to even think at that moment. So she closed her tired eyes and went back to sleep.

* * *

After spending the whole night assuring his sister that her daughter was going to be alright, Prince Oberyn was exhausted and enraged. _Cersei dared to poison my niece right under my nose_ , was all that was screaming in his head. Putting on a clean coat, he decided to pay the Lord Hand a visit regarding his oldest child, the Queen.

Lord Tywin was at his desk when the Prince of Dorne came in unannounced. "Prince Oberyn, I wasn't expecting to see you at least until this afternoon. I hear you were up all night." He sounded surprised.

"I was, but I thought I'd come pay you a visit first," Oberyn told the Hand as he poured himself wine.

Pushing his papers to the side and folding his hands in the desk Tywin asked Oberyn, "Then what brings you here so early?" Whatever the reason why the Prince was seeing him in the afternoon without any sleep, Tywin assumed it was important.

Sitting down in one of the chairs across from Lord Tywin, Oberyn proper his tired feet up on the other chair next to the one he was currently sitting in. "My niece was poisoned last night. She almost dies and loses her child, you heir's heir, and yet you sit here as if nothing has happened?" Though phrased as a question, it was more of an accusatory statement.

Of course Tywin cared about the fact that the future of House Lannister was in jeopardy. "As Hand of the King, I have many important duties to attend to. As soon as I heard of Lyra and Jaime's misfortune and that Lyra was likely poisoned, I ordered Maester Pycelle and several Lannister soldiers to begin an investigation to find the perpetrator." Feeling a headache coming on from the sheer amount of work to do he added, "However, our investigational resources are limited right now considering the fact that we are currently investigating the poisoning of King Joffery as well as arranging for a trial for Tyrion and his part in the King's death."

"So then my niece's attempted murder is considered low priority?" Oberyn bristled.

Due to the amount of stress he was currently under, Tywin did not care to argue with the Prince. "Believe me Prince Oberyn, I'm quite concerned about this, but you must understand: the King is dead, Lyra is not; we have a man in custody for the King's death, and the crime against Lyra is still under an investigation; most of our resources were already directed at investigating the King's murder, we don't have many men to investigate Lyra's poisoning and I have already re-directed Maester Pycelle to investigate it. So yes; Lyra's poisoning is a lower priority, not a low priority, until Tyrion's trial is over and done with." Tywin finished, expecting the issue to be resolved with this.

Oberyn snorted, "Pray tell, do you know what Lyra was poisoned with?"

"I expect we shall soon find out once it is investigated," Lord Tywin responded, returning to his work.

"She was poisoned with Moon Tea," Oberyn sharply said. "Moon Tea is made from the dried leaves of the Tansey, which is known to prevent pregnancy. All of the Maesters know this, and they all keep the tea in stock. Many ladies use it to prevent pregnancies as well as an early abortificant; however, taken later in pregnancy can be fatal to both mother and child."

"Are you implying that the maester tried to poison your niece?" Tywin doubted.

Draining his glass, Oberyn answered, "No, not the maester. Many noble ladies know much about the uses of Moon Tea due to using it themselves; but Lyra is not one of them. She has no knowledge of Moon Tea other than the fact that it is something she will never need because she has always been a rather chaste girl compared to many other ladies from Dorne."

"I would expect no less from the woman I married my son and heir to. Your older brother even assured me of her chastity."

Pouring more wine, Oberyn asked, "I spoke to Maester Pycelle earlier, and he says that he does not keep inventory of his stocks of Moon Tea as he has not needed to distribute it for a long time. He also says that some of the Queen's closest handmaidens are the only people who know where it is besides himself." Sitting back down, he asked seriously, "Tell me, Lord Tywin, how much credence do you give to the rumors about the Queen and Ser Jaime?"

Tywin stopped at this and fixed Oberyn with a hard stare, "None. It is nothing more than a nasty rumor started by Stannis Baratheon in an attempt to make King Joffrey's rule illegitimate." He replied harshly.

"It _is_ interesting though. The royal children all look nothing like the late King Robert, and if the rumors are true about the twins, then that would make Lyra an enemy of Queen Cersie's, who is notorious for being a rather jealous woman. I heard that the Queen ordered all of King Robert's bastard's killed, all of whom were produced by blonde haired women coincidentally had dark hair. If all of this is true, then Lyra would definitely be an unwitting challenger to Cersie's position if she bore a dark haired child with Jaime." Oberyn finished, staring at Lord Twin with curiosity.

Tywin's face began to redden with anger. "Are you accusing my daughter, your Queen, and Lyra's good sister, of poisoning her because you believe the rumors about her and my son are true?"

"No, I'm not accusing anyone of anything," Oberyn responded back nonchalantly as he got up to leave, "but it is interesting, no? Especially since the Queen is probably the only person in the whole castle that can go around undetected."

* * *

It was a couple of days before Lyra was strong enough to stay awake long enough to have visitors. Jaime told her that her mother had come every day to see her since she was bed ridden, but Lyra couldn't remember her mother's visits at all. Lyra also learned from Jaime that the trial wouldn't take place for another fortnight because Lord Tywin wanted to wait long enough for the late King Joffrey's mourning period to be over for Tommen's coronation, in addition to the fact that the Queen requested more time to gather evidence against Tyrion; which was taking longer due to the fact that Lyra's poisoning was being investigated along with the late King's.

Jaime hadn't seen Tyrion since his imprisonment in the tower, much to Lyra's horror; though she was touched that he had remained by her side this entire time. Arienne, Ellaria, and Meria had come to visit Lyra, and after much prodding and reassuring Jaime that she would be fine and safe in the presence and care of her family, he finally left to visit Tyrion.

Walking to the tower where Tyrion was imprisoned, Jaime saw Cersei after he turned a corner, much to his horror; he did not want to see his sister right now. Jaime quickly ducked into a crevice, concealing himself, until he heard Cersei leave. Though Jaime did not want to see Cersei in fear that he may strangle his own sister out of rage, a part of him also wanted to confront her about her attempt on Lyra's life. Arriving at the tower, the guards let Jaime pass with ease, which surprised him since he was no longer Lord Commander of the Kings Guard. Though Jaime supposed that they might have been hoping that there was poison in the jug of wine he'd brought Tyrion. Stepping into Tyrion's cell, the guards locked the door behind Jaime before walking back to their posts.

"Come to taunt me some more?" Tyrion asked with a tone of boredom while staring out the tower window.

"No, but I have brought you wine," Jaime responded almost bemused; even facing charges of Kinslaying as well as Kingslaying, locked in a tower cell, and knowing that he would likely be convicted, Tyrion's spirit still refused to be broken.

"Jaime?" Tyrion turned around, his heart leaping in relief. "Jaime!"

Setting down the wine, Jaime hugged his brother, they missed each other greatly, and Tyrion was relieved to finally see a friendly face.

"I was beginning to think..." Tyrion's voice began to crack with emotion, "I was beginning to think that you didn't believe me," he recomposed himself, "I did not do this. I would never." Tyrion said, looking up at his big brother.

Pouring Tyrion wine, Jaime felt guilty, "I'm sorry, Tyrion...I meant to come much sooner, but Lyra was poisoned. I couldn't just leave her without knowing for sure that she'd be safe."

Tyrion could only look at his brother with shock, he couldn't believe that somebody would dare poison a pregnant Lyra around his father and Jaime both. "How is she? Is she going to be alright?" Tyrion asked jaime worriedly.

Jaime hadn't drank at all since Lyra had been poisoned, and he very much felt that he needed some wine at the moment. "She's devastated over losing the babe, but Maester Pycelle and Prince Oberyn have assured Father and I that Lyra should make a full recovery, but she will be weak for a while until then. Right now, the most she can do is walk across the room before feeling too light headed." Jaime scratched his face, he hadn't shaved in three days and his stubble was starting to itch.

"Is anyone is custody? Surely Father would have someone right now." Tyrion was sure that Lord Tywin would at least have someone in custody, even if it weren't the right person.

"No," Jaime replied, "Father and Pycelle can't find anyone, even a potential scape goat, but he does believe that it may have been the same person who tried to kill him in Harenhal."

"You don't sound convinced," Tyrion raised an eyebrow at Jaime. The wine was beginning to take effect on him and he was feeling more like himself.

Jaime took a deep breath, he wasn't sure if he should be saying this here. "It was Cersei." He drank deeply at this.

"You sound quite sure."

"Prince Oberyn and I both believe that she either did it herself or had her maids slip Tansey into Lyra's tea."

"Moon Tea? That sounds like Cersei; she knows that Pycelle doesn't keep track of his own inventory. I caught her hand maidens stealing some for her while she was fucking cousin Lancel."

This information about Cersei and Lancel stung Jaime. Though he no longer cared about Cersei or loved her, he had always been faithful to her when they were in love, and it hurt to know that she didn't return that. Jaime was beginning to wonder if Cersei had even loved him at all. "I'm not here to talk about Lyra or myself though; I'm here to talk about you and your situation."

"I'm fucked. What is there to talk about?" Tyrion stated bitterly.

"You're not fucked yet; there's still to be a trial," Jaime tried to ease his brother.

"Oh, and who is overseeing this trial? Father? He's wanted me dead since the day I was born."

Jaime sighed, "Father, Mace Tyrell, and Prince Oberyn will be the judges."

"So then I am fucked," Tyrion laughed bitterly. "Father wants me dead for being a dwarf in addition to the fact that he blames me for mother's death. Margeary was drinking from the same cup Joffrey was, so Mace Tyrell is not exactly going to be terribly understanding. Prince Oberyn? I'm a Lannister, he wants me dead solely for that reason! Why even bother with a trial?!"

"You're not alone Tyrion," Jaime said, trying to calm his brother down, "Lyra has offered to testify on your's and Sansa's behalf. Apparently, Sansa told Lyra what horrible things Joffrey did to her, how you tried to help her at every turn, and she even showed Lyra her scars. Lyra is adamant that neither you nor Sansa, especially Sansa, would never have even thought about doing this, but Father won't let her. He's calling it a 'conflict of interest' since she's Sansa's cousin."

"Lyra," Tyrion said sadly, "she's a good woman. I've grown rather fond of your lady wife. She didn't deserve to have such an evil bitch of a good sister like Cersei," Tyrion added sadly.

"And she's grown quite fond of you as well. I believe that she is going to try to sway her uncle in your favor." Jaime didn't think that Lyra would be successful in this endeavor, but he loved his brother and he didn't want him to give up hope.

"Does she know who poisoned her?" Tyrion asked. When Jaime nodded in affirmative, Tyrion had to laugh a little, "Nearly killed by the Queen yet ready to take her on by proxy in this trial. I can't decide if that's bravery or stupidity."

Putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, Jaime assured Tyrion, "Don't lose hope just yet; you still have friends here even if you think that you don't."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! I know that my fic is a little choppy right now, which is why I'm going to spend the next week or so revising and editing the story. BTW, I LOVE the scenes with Tyrion and Jaime. Their brotherly love is so touching!**


	16. Chapter 16: Truth

**Author's Note: SOOO I said that I was going to revise this fic, but it is TOO MUCH FUN TO WRITE! I'll just revise when I get around to it!**

 **Thank you SamanthaJoanneHiddlesbum! Haters gonna hate ;) and thank you Mara265! I'm glad that you are enjoying my pic so much!**

 **I meant to add that I always imagined Lyra to look similar to Mary Queen of Scots from Reign, but with a longer, more Stark-like face, and fair olive tone skin. Just for reference!**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Truth**

Lyra lay in bed, staring at the canopy, Jaime was beside her, still fast asleep as the sun began to rise in their chambers, filling the room a soothing bluish light. Early morning awakenings were beginning to become a common occurrence for Lyra ever since she had recovered enough from her poisoning to the point that she didn't have to spend all day sleeping. At first, Lyra was delighted by the fact that she no longer felt so exhausted all of the time, but now, she was beginning to wish that she _could_ sleep all day; Tyrion's trial was only three days away and she had a lot on her mind, which was keeping her from getting enough sleep.

Who would want to kill the king?

True, Joffrey was an awful, cruel and incompetent king, but it seemed to Lyra that he was surrounded by "supporters". The possibility of the Tyrells had crossed Lyra's mind as the possible culprits, but their beloved Margeary was going to be the Queen by marrying Joffrey. Lyra concluded that it would not be in House Tyrell's interests to have Margeary's new husband poisoned, especially since Joffrey and Margeary drank from the same cup at the wedding feast. At least, that's what Lyra had heard; her and Jaime weren't present for most of the feast so she had to take everyone else's word on what had happened.

Then there was the possibility of Tyrion. It was no secret that Tyrion thought poorly of Joffrey, but Lyra did not believe that he poisoned the King either. Sansa had more reason that anyone to poison Joffrey, but Lyra didn't believe that her cousin was capable of doing so, especially given the fact that Sansa was still closely watched by the guards despite the fact that she was married into House Lannister.

As much as Lyra loathed to think of it, the only people of whom she thought were likely responsible for Joffrey's death was her own family. The more Lyra thought about it, the more she believed that Prince Oberyn, her own uncle, likely murdered the King. The King was poisoned, and Oberyn was renowned for his knowledge on poisons; House Martell despised House Lannister and House Baratheon, and Oberyn has made it no secret that he wants every Lannister dead. Prince Doran may have forbidden Dorne and Oberyn for intentionally antagonizing the Crown and House Lannister, but if anyone could kill a head member of the Crown or House Lannister without anyone knowing House Martell was involved, it was Oberyn. No matter how much Lyra didn't want to believe that Oberyn poisoned the King, the possibility that Oberyn poisoned him was overwhelming the more she thought about it.

Untangling herself from Jaime's arms, Lyra got out of bed. Putting on a warm robe, she walked through the semi-darkness of the room and poured herself some wine. Lyra knew that it was far too early to be drinking, but ever since her poisoning, she had begun avoiding tea as if it were infected by Grey Scale. Not only that, but the stressful thoughts invading her mind were calling for something calming like wine and not something stimulating like tea.

Not only was Lyra concerned for Tyrion's trial and the possibility that her own uncle likely poisoned the King, in which case, Oberyn would be trying an innocent man for a crime he, himself had committed; but the attempt on her own life and the murder of her unborn child worried her as well. Oberyn was convinced with good reason that it was Cersei who had poisoned her out of jealousy, and given the strong evidence that the rumors of Cersei and Jaime were likely true, Lyra had no choice but to accept the fact that the rumors about her husband and his sister were likely true.

"Up and drinking so early?"

Lyra shot up from her seat on the sofa, startled. "I've had a lot on my mind I suppose," she said quietly.

"Such as?" Jaime asked as he crossed the room towards his wife.

Lyra's heart began to race. She could feel her chest tightening. She didn't want to ask it, but she had to know. "I know that Cersei tried to poison me with Moon Tea." She replied softly as her eyes averted from her glass and bore into Jaime's green ones.

Lyra watched Jaime get up and slip a cream tunic and loose, brown breeches on. Neither husband or wife was shy in front of the other with their naked bodies; but with Lyra in a robe, drinking her wine and pensively staring at Jaime with an unreadable expression mixed with sadness, disgust and knowing, he suddenly felt too exposed.

"And...I think that you know why she tried to kill me as well," Lyra stated with fear quivering her voice.

Jaime's heart sank; she knows...He was hoping that Lyra would never find out about the terrible truth, but it sounded like she already knew and he could no longer avoid it. Jaime had a feeling that he was going to need wine in order to have this conversation with his wife. His mind was numb as he poured the wine and strode over to sit next to Lyra.

Waiting for Jaime to sit next to her, Lyra drained her glass as she felt her heart thunking in her throat and ears. She didn't want to ask it, but a part of her desperately needed to know. Lyra waited until Jaime drank his wine; truth be told though, she waited, mostly, because she needed to pluck up the courage to ask him the horrid question.

Lyra stared straight ahead; she didn't think that she could bear to look at Jaime when she'd hear the terrible truth to a horrible question. "You and the Queen, and the royal children...Is it true?"

Jaime felt his extremities go numb at Lyra's question. All of the memories he'd made with Lyra, whom he had spent most of his time with over the past seven moons, ran through his head. Jaime realized that if he told Lyra the truth, then their relationship would be damaged, and that possibly, that damage would prove to be irreparable. More than anything, Jaime didn't want his wife to spurn him outside of the marriage customs that they were required to keep; he'd grown to love Lyra. He liked her ferociousness, how she knew so much from copious amounts of reading, and how physically and emotionally close they had become in their marriage. How much they loved each other. _She deserves the truth_ , he thought to himself. Looking at the profile of her face, he saw the tear stain down her cheek and how she was so afraid and sad that she couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaime opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.

When Jaime fell silent at her question, Lyra had enough waiting. She was too anxious for this. She needed an answer now, and she needed it from Jaime's own lips. Turning to face her husband, she took Jaime's face in her hands, "There's so much evidence that the rumor isn't just a rumor," tears spilled down her cheeks. Leaning her forehead against his, she closed her eyes, "I know it's true...but I love you and I need to hear it from you."

It barely came out as a whisper, but it rang loudly in Jaime's ears. His good hand shaking, he tilted Lyra's chin so that he could kiss her. He meant for the kiss to be gentle and reassuring, but instead, it was long and passionate. When they broke apart, Jaime wrapped his arms around Lyra. Her tears now flowing freely, he felt his tunic dampen as he held his wife tightly; Jaime held Lyra as if their embrace was the last time he'd ever hold her.

Lyra choked out a restrained sob. Jaime stroked her dark hair soothingly. He wanted to lie so that he wouldn't lose his beloved wife, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her and the longer he waited to tell her the truth, the more pain he was causing her.

"Yes. It's true," Jaime whispered in Lyra's ear.

Lyra thought her heart had stopped. All she could hear was her heart thumping in her ears until Jaime whispered in her ear, then, nothing but silence followed. Realization striking her, Lyra suddenly and violently pushed herself away from Jaime. "You! You and- I didn't want to believe it!"

Trying to go to his wife, who had now become very pale as she was trying to stop hyperventilating, Jaime was pushed back when he attempted to touch her. "Don't touch me!" Lyra gasped at Jaime, revulsion in her voice. A thousand unwelcomed thoughts invaded Lyra's mind, all of Cersei and Jaime fucking, telling each other of their love. Of how their relationship caused a war because of their monster of a bastard son. Her family! Half of her family was fucking dead just so the two of them could fuck! And her child! That innocent, unborn little creature growing in her belly was dead too because of them. At that thought, all of the pain and sadness she'd felt upon losing the babe she'd never know now, thanks to Cersei, in addition to the shock and sadness from learning of her husband's incest; Lyra felt the large tears fall freely from her eyes. She was quietly crying, but she was crying what felt like a river of tears as grief ripped her apart inside.

All his life, Jaime had never felt shame towards his and Cersei's relationship, until now. Looking at the pain, the sadness and of the repulsion that Lyra's eyes now held for him. Now, seeing Lyra's heartbreak at the revelation, realizing that Cersei may have never loved him beyond an extension of herself, and that their relationship was responsible for all of the pain and bloodshed between both sides of Lyra's family; Jaime felt great shame and fear that he'd lose Lyra forever.

Bracing herself against the edge of the sofa in an attempt to steady herself as her head was spinning from breathing too hard and too fast, Lyra barely heard Jaime's sad voice.

"Lyra...This couldn't have come as a surprise for you. You said it yourself; you already knew that it was true." Jaime sat down and put his face in his hands before taking a deep breath. He wished that he could take everything back, but he couldn't. He wanted to hold Lyra; she was in so much pain and there was nothing he could do to help her. "I love _you_ Lyra, and I would _never_ dishonor you _or_ betray you. I don't love _her_ , not anymore, not since you. When I came back less than perfect, she cast me aside, and when I learned of her unfaithfulness during my absence, I was done with her." Getting up, he tried to touch Lyra's hand, but as soon as he got close, she quickly pulled her hand away, straightened up, and turned her back to him, her arms folded over herself. It hurt that his wife, the playful Dornish girl who Jaime had come to know as a fierce, fiery and loving woman, the woman he was so in love with and saw a future with, was so repulsed that she couldn't even face him, let alone look at him. "This happened long before I even knew you...I wish I could change the past, but I can't."

"I-I need to leave," Lyra gasped out, "I need to be alone!" She needed to think. To process everything that had happened, and she couldn't do any of that with Jaime in the vicinity. As of right now, simply just his presence made her feel sick.

* * *

Lyra stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep. Jaime didn't follow her, much to her relief.

 _He and his sister..._

 _My family..._

 _My father's house is practically dead because of them!_

People starred and got out of the way as Lyra walked, more like rushed, past them. She must have looked a sight; red faced, puffy, swollen eyes and disheveled hair. Lyra hadn't even brushed or styled her hair this morning, nor had she dressed properly. When she stormed out of the chambers she shared with Jaime, she had quickly put on a plain yellow dress with long cream colored sleeves, a dress she wore exclusively for riding. Lyra probably looked more like a commoner than the highborn lady she actually was, but right now, she couldn't care less.

As Lyra's vision began to cloud again from the tears that were threatening to spill again from her eyes, she slowed down her pace to a stroll as she continued to wander aimlessly through the Red Keep. She realized that she didn't even have shoes on when her bare feet suddenly hit cold, smooth marble. Lyra silently thanked the Gods that her dress was so long that probably nobody had seen her bare feet. Looking up from the floor, she realized that she had wondered into a library. Looking around and seeing that nobody was there, Lyra quietly closed the oak doors for privacy and sat down on a sofa in a corner. She knew that she was being childish, but she wanted to be alone more than anything right now.

 _Did he want to fuck Cersei instead of me?_

 _Does he imagine fucking Cersei when he fucks me?_

 _Does he even care about the fact that their incest destroyed my family? Started a war? Got Ned, Cat, and Robb killed? Destroyed Sansa's future? Almost got me killed? Killed my,_ our _, babe?!_

Lyra had come to the library to be alone, so that she could think, but she was quickly realizing that she didn't actually _want_ to be thinking any of these thoughts. The more she thought of Cersei, and the more the unwanted images of the Queen fucking Jaime invaded her mind; Lyra felt her pain and grief turn into rage and jealousy. Jaime was still mourning over Cersei's rejection the first few months Lyra had known him, which she now figured was why he was so distant and cold towards her initially. The powerful emotional outburst along with all of the retching and crying and movement had left Lyra physically and emotionally exhausted. Stretching out on the sofa she was currently sitting on, Lyra laid her head down on a pillow and closed her eyes.

* * *

When Ashara entered her lady's chambers she shared with her husband, carrying a tray with breakfast and tea, she was surprised to find that only Ser Jaime was occupying the room. Setting the tray down on a table, Ashara began to chatter away about what she had brought for breakfast and asked when Lady Lyra would be back. Her lady was still recovering and the Grand Maester had stressed to Ashara and Joyce, both, about how they needed to make sure that Lyra ate good quality food four times a day in order to ensure a good and full recovery. Upon hearing no answer from Ser Jaime, Ashara peaked around the corner towards the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"My lord?"

No response. The room was eerily silent save for the crackling of the fire. Walking over to the sofa, Ashara saw Ser Jaime staring deep in thought at the fireplace. He reeked of wine.

"My lord?" She asked again, feeling slightly scared. Ashara had never been alone with the Kingslayer before.

Raising her voice a little, Ashara asked again; "My lord? Where is Lady Lyra?" Jaime jumped, which in turn, made Ashara jump.

"I don't know," he slurred to his wife's handmaiden.

Since Lyra left at daybreak, he'd become quite drunk in a sad attempt at trying not to think about the hell storm that Cersei had ultimately turned his life into. His loving relationship with Lyra had made him realize how Cersei had manipulated him all his life, and how ultimately poisonous the love he and his twin once shared was. He became a King's Guard because Cersei had convinced him to join so that they may never be separated, he broke his vows as a King's Guard by fucking her because she had come to hate King Robert, which ultimately led to his ultimate betrayal of the same King who unwittingly raised Jaime's bastards as his own true-born children. Cersei had taken the best of Jaime's life for her own selfish desires without regard for him. Now, Cersei, out of jealousy, tried to murder the one person and take away the one thing he felt like he had anymore, Lyra and her true love for him. _Lyra's babe, no, our babe, she took that from us_. Lyra had been elated to have been pregnant with Jaime's child, and he had been dreaming of the day that he could have a child he could openly love and be a father to. Something Jaime thought he'd never have and initially resisted; to have a family, a wife he could openly claim and love, and who openly claimed and loved him, and children whom he and Lyra would raise and love together, the children whom would carry his name and not another man's.

* * *

It took almost an hour, but Ashara eventually found Lady Lyra. By the looks of Ser Jaime after briefly speaking to him of Lady Lyra's whereabouts, Ashara surmised that her lady and her lady's husband had likely had quite an upsetting conversation. After being in Lady Lyra's service for two years now, Ashara had learned that her lady usually preferred to be in a secluded and quiet place while she calmed down. Looking all over the Red Keep, specifically knocking and looking into rooms with closed doors, Ashara found Lady Lyra in a small library in a less used part of the castle. Initially, Ashara thought that one of the servants had fallen asleep on the sofa in the library until she looked closer and saw that it was a roughly dressed, barefoot, and disheveled Lady Lyra who was fast asleep on the couch with tear stains down her cheeks.

"My lady," Ashara said, trying to gently wake Lady Lyra.

Rubbing her eyes, Lady Lyra refocused them on the young woman standing in front of her. "Ashara?" She said groggily.

"I'm sorry to wake you my lady, but you _do_ need to break your fast. Grand Maester Pycelle has stressed the importance of doing so in order for you to make a quick recovery."

Lyra felt tears well up in her eyes again as she remembered the morning's revelation.

Ashara had never seen Lady Lyra so sad. Her lady never cried in front of her. Taking a handkerchief from a pocket from her dress, Ashara gently wiped the tears from Lyra's eyes. "Would you like to confide in me what has you in such a gloom?" Ashara asked empathetically.

At this, more tears fell from Lyra's eyes, but not of sadness; rather, she was supremely grateful to her handmaiden. No, Ashara had become more than just her handmaiden over the years; Ashara Dayne had become one of Lyra's closest friends. "I wish I could Ashara. You're one of my dearest friends, but I just can't," Lyra sobbed. She desperately wanted to tell her friend, but she knew that if she did, then everyone she loved could be in grave danger.

Helping Lyra to her feet, Ashara needed to get Lyra into some more appropriate clothing and some shoes, and most of all, Lyra needed to eat. "Would you like to go back to your chambers my lady? Your husband is in quite a state himself. Perhaps you could tell him what you can't tell me," Ashara offered.

"No!" Lyra didn't mean for it to come out harshly, but the last thing she wanted was to go back to her chambers and deal with Jaime. "I'm sorry..." she apologized for her outburst. "Please, anywhere but there."

Thinking for a minute, Ashara suggested something that she was sure to be out of line, but she wanted her lady and friend to be comfortable and dressed and to get some food in her belly. "Perhaps, would you...would you like to dress and break your fast in my room then? We shan't be bothered there, and I can fetch your clothes and bring you food to break your fast," Ashara added shyly.

Initially, Ashara thought that Lyra would reprimand her for such a suggestion; instead, Lyra flashed her a genuine, thankful smile. "That would be wonderful. Of course, if it's not too much trouble."

"Of course not, my lady. I would be honored to host you in my quarters for as long as you'd like."

* * *

Lyra was still surprised at how close Ashara and Joyce's quarters were to hers and Jaime's. Ashara had been kind enough to pick out her beautiful, comfortable soft orange Martell dress with the gold stitching and golden suns stitched on the shoulders, and comfortable slippers for Lyra to wear.

After helping Lyra dress, Ashara then began the arduous task of untangling her thick, long hair. Being quite careful and gentle as Lyra ate the food she'd brought her to break her fast. _She's so good to me...too good to me. I want her to marry a gentle and kind man whom she's head over heals in love with. A man who would never hurt her._

After calming down, Lyra asked how Jaime was.

"Ser Jaime has been drinking all morning. I'm afraid he's passed out on the bed, at least, that's how I found him when I was retrieving your things, my lady," Ashara responded. "I don't mean to speak out of turn, my lady; but if I may, I'm rather concerned about him. Especially with his beloved brother, Lord Tyrion, being imprisoned and awaiting trial," she said as she finished brushing Lyra's hair, pulling the front of her hair behind her and letting the hair just above and in front of her ears hang loose on her shoulders, a style similar to Margaery Tyrell's.

 _Tyrion!_

Lyra couldn't confide in her family, Oberyn would try to kill Jaime in his sleep or poison him; but she might be able to talk to Tyrion about it and better understand the situation she was now in. She knew that it was selfish to go to him about this as he was in a far worse predicament than herself, but she desperately needed to speak with him. They always enjoyed talking to one another, perhaps he would welcome the distraction, and maybe, Lyra could even somehow help Tyrion during his own crisis. Getting up from her seat, Lyra thanked Ashara for her hospitality and for helping her pick herself back up from this crisis, before leaving. First, she was going to Pycelle to get a drought to calm her nerves, and then she was going to go to the kitchens to get a large jug of wine to bring to Tyrion.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry it's moving so slowly! I hate writing about Lyra being in so much pain, but this revelation needed to happen.**

 **Next: Tyrion has a visitor, Lyra confronts Cersei, and Jaime tries to make amends with Lyra.**


	17. Chapter 17:Resolution and Confrontation

**AN: Rough draft, please forgive my paragraph flow and grammatical errors, but I was so excited to update! I'll revise later.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: A Resolution and a Confrontation**

"You won't mind if I watch you make the drought, will you?"

Grand Maester Pycelle raised an eyebrow, looking at Lyra curiously at her request.

"Forgive me, Grand Maester," Lyra smiled at him sweetly; feeling she may have accidentally insulted the ancient man sitting at his desk. "It's just that ever since someone slipped poison in my tea, I've been quite weary about other people preparing anything I consume." It was true, Lyra _was_ weary of consuming anything prepared by another person, but she had never gone so far as to actually watch them do it. Except for Pycelle; Lyra knew that the old maester was a sort of lackey to Cersei before he became Lord Tywin's lackey. In addition to having never trusted the man to begin with due to his abnormally long tenure as Grand Maester, Lyra decided to play it safe and watch him prepare the drought.

The lady's request slightly wounded his pride as it insinuated to him that she found him to be incompetent and less trustworthy than the servants; but nevertheless, Pycelle acquiesced to Lyra's request and let her watch him prepare the drought.

"Interesting that you would be requesting this drought, my lady. Last I saw you, you were actually having trouble staying awake. Quite the opposite of having difficulty sleeping, I must say."

"I'm sorry to trouble you. I know that you must be quite busy as Grand Maester, especially with the trial and King Tommen's coronation all happening in just a few days. I know that I'm quite stressed as well with all of that coming up as well as my attempted murderer still on the loose."

"'Tis no trouble at all. Times like these can be quite taxing on the nerves as well as the house hold's will power. Especially when it involves three members of the royal family. That is when the role of the maester becomes more important than ever."

Annoyed and wanting the old man to make his point so that she could get her drought, Lyra patiently feigned interest as Pycelle droned on and on about the extra work he's had to do since King Joffrey's murder and Lyra's attempted murder. Seven Hells she'd never heard a man drone on about anything the way Pycelle did, and to make it worse, he often forgot what he was talking about so he'd have to start the topic all over again.

"Though one drop of Essence of Nightshade calms the nerves, it tends to make one want for sleep. I'll make you another drought to help with your nerves during the day," Pycelle said, suddenly snapping Lyra back to reality.

After what seemed like ages, Lyra left the Grand Maester's study and headed towards the kitchens to retrieve a large jug of wine. The kitchen servants were quite busy preparing for the coronation of King Tommen tomorrow, and thus they didn't even notice Lyra casually walk in, grab a jug of Dornish Red and slip back out. She then headed towards the tower where Tyrion was being held.

Upon arriving at the tower cells, Lyra was surprised to be greeted by two Lannister guards who asked her to let them look in the jug of wine and her pockets. When one asked her why she was bringing wine to the man being accused of poisoning her as well as Joffrey, she was shocked; she had no idea that Tyrion was going to stand trial for both poisonings. Tyrion was locked in a cell when Lyra was poisoned!

Shaking her head at the guards' gullibility and stupidity, she was shown to the cell and promptly locked in with Tyrion.

Upon seeing Lyra, Tyrion immediately brightened; "Ah! My good-sister! Welcome to my humble abode!" He said gesturing about the room with both arms. "Tell me, what brings you here today? Has my bitch sister convinced you to poison me?"

The room was dusty and there was a pile of straw in a corner with a blanket, which Lyra assumed was where Tyrion slept. Not wanting to get her dress dirty and dusty, and feeling a little winded from walking up the stairs, Lyra flipped an empty bucket over and sat down.

"Of course I'm not here to poison you! What in the Seven Hells has gotten in to you?" Lyra said, offended that Tyrion would think her, of all people, would attempt to poison him.

Calming down, Tyrion apologized; "Forgive me Lady Lyra," he said soberly. "My sister came into my cell to speak to me to tell me herself that I am now being tried for two crimes, which I did not commit," Tyrion explained, visibly shaken and irritated at the same time.

Feeling bad for Tyrion, Lyra honestly did not believe that he would ever attempt to take her life or Joffrey's, she embraced her good brother. "I'm so sorry Tyrion, I truly am. I _do_ believe your innocence," she told him, sadness in her voice.

"Thank you, dear," Tyrion said with a sad smile. "I believe that you are becoming my favorite sister."

After chatting for a bit about the trial, and Lyra reassuring Tyrion that she was still trying to convince her uncle, Prince Oberyn, to judge the trial in his favor, Tyrion noticed the jug of wine sitting on the floor next to Lyra. "Forgive my rudeness as it is not polite to ask guests if they have brought a gift for you, but is that wine for me?" He asked, brightening significantly at the thought of being able to have wine again.

"Of course! I thought we'd share a bit, curtesy of Queen Cersei."

Tyrion gave Lyra the stink eye at this.

"I'm joking!" Lyra assured him, pouring a cup for herself. "I wouldn't consume anything that has even so much as been in the vicinity of that vile woman," she spat.

Pouring a cup for himself, Tyrion drained the wine quickly and poured another, "Beg your pardon," he said. "My situation is a bit difficult to take sober. You have my gratitude for bringing the wine _and_ your company. I could certainly use a distraction from my own thoughts of having my head severed from my neck. Cersei has wanted me dead almost my entire life. Now, she has found an opportunity to justify my execution, and she is determined to have my head on a spike." Draining the second cup, he poured a third.

"You and I have that in common," Lyra said as she put two drops of the calming elixir in her wine, just as Pycelle had instructed. As Tyrion saw her pouring the elixir in her drink, he eyed her suspiciously. "What? You still think I'm trying to poison you?"

"I'm sorry Lady Lyra; you must understand that I'm quite suspicious of everyone, considering that almost the entire castle wants me dead."

Lyra sighed irritably, "Tyrion, I think at this point, we can cut out the formalities and be frank with each other. I know that _she_ tried to kill me. I think she wants me dead almost just as badly as she want you dead. Besides the fact that I've always considered you a friend, I also believe that we are natural allies right now because of her."

Tyrion stopped at this; did Lyra know about Cersei and Jaime? He didn't want to give it away, but he wanted to know whether or not his good sister knew. "What makes you so sure that it was Cersei who poisoned you?" Tyrion asked quietly so that the guards wouldn't hear.

Staring at Tyrion intensely for a moment, Lyra replied, "Jaime told me the truth. He told me _everything_ about he and Cersei. I believe that she tried to poison me out of jealousy." Lyra said quietly; she didn't want the guards to overhear and accuse her of treason, but talking about Jaime and Cersei's relationship aloud was very painful as well.

Tyrion looked at Lyra with pity, he now noticed how exhausted and sad she looked. "I'm so sorry Lyra. For you having to go through a poisoning and losing your child all at once, as well as finding out the terrible truth during such an already terrible time." She thanked him for his kind words. "I know that Jaime is very sorry too. I know how terrified he was knowing that you would one day find out the truth."

Lyra felt tears prick her eyes so she looked down at the dusty stone floor. She felt guilty for crying in front of Tyrion about her own situation when he was in an even worse predicament.

Lyra looked up and Tyrion saw how sad and lonely she was at this revelation when he put his hand on her shoulder. "You know that he loves _you_ right?"

"I don't know what to do," Lyra said quietly. "I don't know how to get past this..."

"Do you still love him?"

"I think so," Lyra responded, thinking. "Yes, I do. I suppose that I wouldn't be so devastated by this if I didn't," she reconsidered.

Thinking for a moment, Tyrion added; "You know, I think that Jaime never truly loved Cersei. My sister has always been very manipulative and selfish."

Lyra looked at him quizzically, "He told me that he didn't love her _anymore_ ; which implies that he _did_ love her at one point." Lyra surmised this sadly.

Tyrion shook his head, "I know my brother better than anyone, and I am confident when I say that _you_ are the first woman he's ever truly loved." Pouring his fourth cup of wine, Tyrion explained, "Our mother died when Jaime and Cersei were only six years. I'm confident that if mother was still alive, then Jaime would have never done what he did with Cersei. Our father has never been the loving or nurturing type, even towards Jaime, who is without a doubt, his favorite child. I've always felt that the only reason Jaime gravitated towards Cersei was because he sought the female affection that he lost when mother died, and Cersei gave him the love and affection he needed. Jaime became emotionally dependent on Cersei and she did a fine job of keeping it that way. As they got older, I suspect that this allowed for her to twist him emotionally into believing that since they were twins, they could only feel whole when they are together; which is what led to this horrible...situation."

It made sense, but Lyra wasn't ready to forgive Jaime yet. In fact, she wasn't even sure if she could ever forgive him. _Why did I let you in my heart? Things would be so much easier if I didn't love you, Jaime._

"Lyra," Tyrion said, getting her attention, "Your uncle, Lord Eddard, fathered a bastard child _while_ he was married to Lady stark, but despite that, they still managed to find love for one another as husband and wife. You and Jaime already love each other and this happened _before_ you were married. It _will_ take time, but you two _will_ get past this."

Suddenly, a guard knocked on the door; "My lady, forgive the intrusion, but Lord Tywin is requesting your presence."

Looking at Tyrion, Lyra was sad to go; she wasn't ready to leave and she hated the thought of leaving Tyrion here alone in this awful place.

Seeing the concern on her face, Tyrion assured Lyra; "Go on, I'll be fine," he said, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "And don't let my horrible sister tear you and Jaime apart; that's what she wants. Don't let her win by allowing her to destroy your marriage over something that happened before."

Getting up to leave, Lyra looked at the half empty jug of wine sitting on the floor, which she decided to let Tyrion have (he needed it more than she did); and that's when she spotted the book she brought. "I almost forgot." Lyra handed the large, red leather bound book to Tyrion. "I brought you this. I remembered that you are fascinated by dragons.I thought some heavy reading might help pass the time"

Opening the cover to the first page, Tyrion noted that it was signed _To my beloved niece, Lyra Stark; I hope that you shall always be fascinated by everything and never lose your gift of curiosity_ , which was signed, _your uncle, Rhaegar Targaryen._ The Targeryen seal was imprinted on red wax next to the Prince's signature. Tyrion was touched, but, "I can't possibly take this Lyra," he said. "This was a gift from your dead uncle and I cannot assure you that you'll get it back," he added, trying to give the book back to her.

"Keep it then; it's yours. Important possessions are the only gifts worth giving." Upon seeing that Tyrion was still unsure whether or not to take the book, Lyra added, "I've read it a thousand times, and I have other gifts from my uncle to remember him by."

Tyrion broke at this; Lyra's gift was one of the kindest and thoughtful acts anyone other than Jaime had ever done for him.

Seeing Tyrion tear up at her gift, Lyra knelt down and gave her good brother a reassuring hug. "You're not alone Tyrion. Jaime and I won't let you die," she whispered in his ear.

* * *

Walking up the steps to the Tower of the Hand was much easier than walking up the steps to Tyrion's cell. _Probably because I'm not carrying a large book and a big jug of wine_.

Though still feeling quite disturbed with the confirmation of Jaime and Cersei's incest and their bastard children, Lyra felt considerably better emotionally after speaking with Tyrion. In fact, she now felt like she could face Jaime.

Turning a corner, Lyra saw Cersei walking towards her, unguarded. Lyra curtseyed out of courtesy and pretended like there was nothing wrong, "Your Grace," she greeted the Queen.

"Lyra dear, I've been meaning to come and see you since you were poisoned. I'm already making a case against Tyrion on your behalf. The little monster has wanted the Rock ever since Jaime joined the Kings Guard. I'm sure that's why he tried to have you killed along with your poor babe. Jaime would have never recovered from your death and father would then _have_ to conceded the Rock to Tyrion," Cersei said to Lyra with such syrupy sweetness, she was sure that the queen was mocking her.

Smiling sweetly at Cersei, Lyra replied, "Do you think I'm a fool Cersei?"

Cersei looked as if she had just been slapped. "I _beg_ your pardon?"

"I see through your shit Cersei. Jaime told me the truth and I know that's why you tried to have me killed," Lyra stated flatly, her eyes bearing into Cersei's.

Faltering, but quickly recomposing herself, "Then you know why Jaime will always love me over you. He is my twin, and we are only whole when we are together, we belong together; which is why I will always be the mother of his children," she smirked.

Lyra's anger and jealousy resurfaced, "He's never loved you as more than just his sister," she shot back emotionlessly. "And you will always be the mother of his bastards. _I_ am his lady wife. _I_ will be the Lady of the Rock. And _I_ will be the mother of his _true born_ children with the name _Lannister_."

Before Lyra could react, she felt a sharp sting as Cersei slapped her as hard as she could. "How _dare_ you!" Cersei spat.

Lyra wasn't sure if it was the effects of the alcohol or the fact that she was seething with hatred for Cersei; Lyra slapped Cersei back without missing a beat. "No! How dare _you_ for trying to have me killed along with mine and Jaime's babe!"

Recovering, Cersei could only stare in shock at the woman in front of her. "I will have your hand for that! I am the Queen!"

"No, you are no longer the queen; you are the queen mother and soon to be Lady Tyrell," said a cold voice behind Lyra.

As Lord Tywin walked up to the two women, Cersei shrieked, "She hit me father! I am still Queen until Margeary marries my son. I want her punished!" Cersei said as she rubbed the red skin on her cheek.

Lord Tywin looked at his daughter with disapproval, "You struck your good sister first, so naturally, she retaliated. Not only that, but it appears from the bruise on her face that you've struck Lyra much harder than she struck you." Looking at Lyra, Lord Tywin told her to run along to his solar and that Jaime was waiting there for her.

As Lyra walked away, she heard Lord Tywin add to Cersei, "I understand how much stress you must be under, but _if_ you are the Queen that you say you are, then you should behave as such. _The_ Queen does _not_ slap her good sister in the face over a disagreement, nor does she threaten to have her hand when she is struck back." Turning on his heal, Tywin began to follow Lyra back to his solar, while leaving Cersei rubbing her cheek, embarrassed and fumming.

* * *

Jaime was nervous as he waited for Lyra and his father to enter the solar. He had not seen Lyra all day. He missed her, but he was also afraid of her; that he would lose her love forever.

Hearing the heavy door open, Jaime quickly got up and saw that it was Lyra. His heart began to race as she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when his father came in. Sitting at his chair, Lord Tywin motioned the two of them to sit in the chairs opposite him.

"I want this trial over and done with as soon as possible so Cersei will stop acting like a mad woman," Tywin muttered to himself.

Looking at Lyra, Tywin added, "Forgive my daughter Lady Lyra, she is a grieving mother and not herself at the moment. Though she should not have struck you to begin with, you should not have struck back since she _is_ still your Queen. I suppose though that you must also be under a lot of emotional stress, which is why you also forgot yourself."

Relieved that her impulsive retaliation on Cersei would not be punished, and may have even been justified in Lord Tywin's eyes, Lyra didn't want to press her luck. "I'm sorry to have caused a scene my lord, and everything you said is right. I should not have struck my Queen, but more importantly, I should not have struck my good sister. A member of my family," Lyra said with as much humility as she could muster as she tried to calm her temper. "I will apologize to her when it is appropriate tomorrow."

"Good. See to it that you do. This family has enough problems as it is at the moment." Looking at Jaime then back to Lyra, Tywin added, "I'm happy to hear that you place such importance on family, which is why I've brought the two of you here together. Grand Maester Pycelle informed me that you, Lyra, were up and about the castle; in his expert opinion, he believes that you are well enough to try conceiving again. And seeing as you've had enough energy to recover quickly from Cersei striking you as hard as she did and then proceed to return her slap without hesitation, I'm inclined to agree with him."

Not wanting Lord Tywin to see that there was a problem between her and Jaime, Lyra reached over to Jaime's hand. Holding hands, Lyra and Jaime assured Lord Tywin that they would do their best to conceive again as soon as possible. Satisfied by their answer, Tywin dismissed them and Lyra took Jaime's arm as he led her out the door.

When they were safely back in their chambers, Lyra winced as Jaime gently touched the bruise on her cheek. "Ah! Please be careful."

"I can't believe you struck Cersei." Jaime was truly surprised that anyone in King's Landing would ever have the audacity to retaliate against Cersei once she became violent.

"I didn't mean to," Lyra said sheepishly. "It was probably a natural reaction from all of my martial training," she explained.

"You do know now that she will want revenge on you for wounding her ego?"

"What is she going to do? Sick Meryn Trant on me? Ha! I'd love for the opportunity to disembowl that disgusting child beater," she spat. Lyra truly hated that sad excuse of a knight.

When Jaime gave her a worried look, Lyra acquiesced, "Alright. I'll be careful to stay out of her way."

Relieved Jaime sat down on the bed. "Did you mean what you said to my father?" _Does this mean that she wants to try to get past me and Cersei?_

Sitting next to her husband, Lyra responded; "Yes." Leaning her head on his shoulder, she closed her tired eyes.

"Does this mean that you forgive me?"

Sitting up and looking Jaime in the eye, Lyra thought for a moment before answering. "I still love you Jaime," she kissed him on the forehead. "I don't know if I can forgive you, your...indiscretion has indirectly caused much pain and devastation to my family; but I want to try." She loved Jaime very much, and she wanted to have a happy marriage. A happy life. She'd experienced too much sadness already. Jaime and Cersei's incest may have indirectly caused the deaths of the Starks, but after talking to Tyrion and understanding the situation better, Lyra honestly felt like there was a chance that she could forgive her husband; but he would have to earn it.

Feeling relieved that he at least had a chance to gain Lyra's forgiveness. Jaime laid down on the bed with Lyra and kissed her softly. "Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you and your family?"

Crawling on top of Jaime, Lyra nodded her head and began to take her dress off. Kissing her husband, she told him, "We promised Lord Tywin that we would do our best to conceive an heir as soon as possible." Lyra was still upset with Jaime, but not too upset to make love with him. Besides, the faster they returned to normality, the better off they would both be; and the sooner Lyra was pregnant again, the more it would spit the shit out of Cersei.

* * *

 **Next Chapter: Tommen's coronation and Tyrion's trial.**


	18. Chapter 18: Lions, Wolves, and Snakes

**Chapter 18: Lions, Wolves, and Snakes**

Trying to forgive Jaime for his past with Cersei was easier said than done as Lyra was quickly finding out. Her and her husband had resumed their "marital activities", but unwelcomed thoughts of Cersei and Jaime kept persisting in her mind.

Lyra didn't understand why she felt so much shame. Perhaps it was because _she_ had initiated sex last night, and she had embarrassingly been unable to "perform". It felt good, in fact, it had felt exquisitely pleasurable for Lyra to have her husband inside of her again after so long. Her aunt, Ellaria, was incredibly right; after the initial pain, fucking was incredible. Lyra and Jaime indeed enjoyed each other's bodies so much that even after Lyra had become pregnant before, they still continued fucking. It had felt strange at first, the fact that Jaime was still sexualizing her pregnant body, but after a couple of times, the fact that she was pregnant no longer mattered and Lyra's mindset during pregnancy sex became the same as it was before she had become pregnant. The flame of sexual passion came back. If anything, Lyra's pregnancy had strangely made sex with Jaime even more passionate than before. Likely due to the sex becoming more emotionally intimate; Lyra's pregnancy required them to take sex and foreplay more slowly. Jaime would usually start by kissing her before kissing down to her little belly bulge almost lovingly. As Jaime would thrust slow and deep inside of her, she'd stare into his emerald eyes. As much as it made Lyra feel like a silly, lovesick maiden to think about it, the reason why sex was the best during pregnancy was due to the intimate, emotional connection she and her husband had developed in part because they'd fallen in love.

Last night though...

Lyra thought making love to her husband would be easy as it had always been. Despite finding out about Cersei, Lyra couldn't deny that she was just as much in love with Jaime as ever; but it still hurt her heart to know and it was affecting the intimacy with Jaime.

Last night, Lyra pulled her dress off and helped Jaime out of his clothes before climbing on top of her husband. It had been such an emotionally trying and stressful day, and both Jaime and Lyra needed to feel each other's love as well as the emotional closeness that sex had always brought them; in addition to both of them needing the pleasurable release of sex from one another.

As Lyra kissed Jaime she could still smell the alcohol on him and vaguely wondered if he was still drunk as arousal began to cloud her mind. However, when she felt his arousal on her thighs, brushing up against her own sex, Lyra realized that he probably wasn't too drunk for sex.

Jaime hissed as his wife's hot tightness gripped him. As she rode him, slowly at first due to fear of lingering soreness from her miscarriage, he brushed her hair from her face, cupping her cheek as he did, which she leaned into and closed her eyes. Riding him faster, she seemed to become close to peaking, and he could feel her grip him harder; but each time he anticipated that flutter of her muscles that came with her orgasms, her grip would loosen and she'd sigh in frustration before riding him harder and more aggressively. She did this several more times before seemingly giving up and riding him hard and fast, looking at him i such a way that Jaime knew at this point, Lyra had given up on having an orgasm, and instead, focused on making him finish.

When Jaime gripped Lyra's hips, pulling her further down when he could no longer stop his own orgasm, he felt shame wash over him. Every time Lyra wold almost peak and fail, she couldn't look at him and for a moment, the same pained and disgusted look she had when she discovered the terrible truth would wash over her face; she couldn't finish because she couldn't stop thinking about it. Not that Jaime blamed her; he'd feel the same if he were in her position.

After Jaime finished inside of her, Lyra pulled him out and rolled over to the other side of the bed. Feeling too exposed, Lyra pulled the sheets to cover her body as she rolled to her side, facing away from Jaime. Her heart rate slowing, Lyra felt hot tears pricking her eyes as the thought of Jaime and Cersei, the woman who murdered her unborn babe and almost killed Lyra herself in the process, _copulating_. Unwanted thoughts of the twins were becoming more and more vivid in her head.

Just wanting to sleep so that the thoughts would stop, Lyra got out of the bed to pull out the dream wine she'd retrieved from Grand Maester Pycelle earlier.

Watching his wife get up from the bed, Jaime hadn't realized until now how much of a toll Lyra's poisoning had taken on her; Lyra was thin before, but now she was skinny, almost sick looking, her hair had lost its luster, and her skin looked a little sallow. Only two fortnights ago, Lyra had been happy and healthy, planning for the arrival of her babe, learning everything she could about how to be a competent Lady Lannister. Now, she was sick, had terrible bouts of anxiety and melancholy, and was worrying herself sick over another attempt on her life as well as the outcome of Tyrion's trial. Though they had never discussed any of this, it was plain for Jaime to see.

Thinking about all of this, what Cersei had done to Lyra, it made Jaime's ghost hand twitch. In the past, Jaime never thought he'd ever want his twin dead, but after seeing the lasting effects Cersei's attempt on Lyra's life, it took so much self restraint not to strangle Cersei every time he even so much as walked past her.

* * *

As Lyra sat on the sofa in front of the fire she'd asked the servants to make in the fireplace, she felt herself dozing. She'd gotten up early to get ready for Tommen's coronation today. Lyra had bathed since she'd been poisoned, but she had neglected to wash her hair properly, and she needed it to be clean for today. Her thick hair took a while to dry so she had the castle servants make a fire to speed up the process.

Jaime had been kind enough to start his day with her so that she didn't have to be alone, and he was currently dozing with her, his head on her lap and stroking her soft sweet smelling thighs, as they lay together on the long sofa in front of the fire. They had been like this since dawn.

Lyra had stubbornly stuck to her side of the bed until she fell asleep, Jaime then scooped her up in his arms and held her while they slept. He was surprised that she didn't push away when they awoke at dawn. Perhaps she was thankful that he'd broken down that wall she'd put up the previous night. When the servants awoke Lyra in order for her to take her bath, Jaime ended up joining her in the bathing pool, pulling his wife into his lap and holding her as the soothingly warm water relaxed them.

When Lyra's hair was finally dry, Ashara and Joyce came to help her dress for the coronation, which required her to dress in her most opulent gown. The gown was Lannister red and gold brocade with an off the shoulder, gold neckline with small roaring lions with red jewels for eyes embroidered on the shoulders. The gown was almost as big as Lyra's wedding gown, along with a short train, and thus, required her handmaidens' help being laced into. As always, Lyra and her handmaidens had a small squabble and were forced to compromised on how Lyra's hair should be done. Much to Jaime's amusement as he sat, drinking wine, waiting for Lyra to finish dressing.

Eventually, the women compromised on a half up do where about two to three inches of Lyra's front most hair was twisted before being pinned back with gold, ornamental pins. Lyra's heavy hair was fluffed a bit at the crown, which would stay easier due to the strands twisted back, and a small amount of trends were brought forward to frame her face. To top in all off, Joyce put the same red jewels clipped in her hair for her wedding as Ashara helped Lyra put on a thick, gold necklace with a tear drop ruby that rested just below Lyra's sternum notch, along with matching earrings.

When her handmaidens finished, Lyra looked the perfect Lannister wife. Cersei was visibly displeased when she found out that Lord Tywin and Jaime had given Lyra the late Lady Joanna's jewels, but she could only silently fume at this since Lyra _was indeed_ to be the future Lady of the Rock and Jaime was her husband. Joyce had chosen Lyra's clothes and jewelry, which Lyra had tasked her to do on purpose; Joyce was the daughter of a distant cousin of Lord Tywin and a proud Lannister, so she'd always chosen to dress Lyra as Lannister as possible, which Lyra knew enraged Cersei. After last night's confrontation with Cersei, Lyra had decided to purposely enrage the queen mother as much as she could in subtle ways, and Lyra clearly intended to make the point to Cersei that it was _she_ who was married to jaime and who would also be the woman to take her mother's title and place as Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock.

However...

As Lyra held his arm, making their way to the throne room for the coronation, Jaime looked down and noticed that despite all of the Lannister dress and jewels, Lyra _still_ wore her silver Stark dire wolf ring. _Oh this will dig at Cersei for sure_ , he thought to himself, pleased. He was mildly hoping that his lady wife would find _some way_ to shove the fact that _she_ was Jaime's wife, and the fact that she was a Stark, in Cersei's face; and Lyra, as always, didn't disappoint.

Lyra and Jaime made their way down the throne room close to the front. As member's of the Royal Family and Jaime being the Lord Hand's son and heir, that was their place in court. Nearing Lord Tywin and Cersei, who looked to be conversing with Lady Margeary Tyrell, Jaime and Lyra greeted them.

"Jaime," Lord Tywin acknowledged his son, "Lady Lyra," he added to her with a nod.

"Jaime," Cersei stiffly acknowledged her twin before looking at Lyra with a well practiced, faked sweet smile; "Lady Lyra, so good to see that you've recovered just enough to come see my son's coronation."

It was a subtle insult at Lyra's still sick-looking appearance, but Lyra refused to acknowledge this. "Thank you, your Grace. I'm feeling like my old self again thankfully, but even if I were still ill, I wouldn't miss it for the world. Not only does being married to the future Lord of the Rock entitle many duties and responsibilities, but I also would not want to miss the coronation of whom I believe will be the greatest Baratheon King of the Seven Kingdoms."

Cersei's smile faltered at Lyra's own subtle insult to the fact that Cersei's son may be Jaime's, but he's Baratheon in name; _Lyra_ is Jaime's _wife_ and not _just_ his lover; and _Lyra_ will be Lady Lannister who will bear children by Jaime with the name _Lannister_. In addition to slighting Cersei's oldest child, _the sadistic little shit psychopath_ , whom she doted on.

Margeary must have noticed Cersei's smile falter and her face redden with anger because she quickly asked Lyra and Cersei if both ladies would like to accompany her to greet Ser Loras, who had just entered the Throne Room. After the three women greeted Ser Loras, Margeary asked if Cersei would like to stay in his company as they must be excited to "discuss their wedding plans", while Margeary took Lyra's arm for a stroll around the Throne Room.

Reaching a more private spot to the side, Lady Margeary and Lyra's discussion turned from small talk when Lyra asked, "I hear that you are to replace Cersei as Queen soon. Again."

Turning to face Lyra, Margeary looked slightly surprised, "You know about that? I thought it wasn't to be announced until after the trial."

Smiling, Lyra added, "People are under the false belief that because my last name is Stark, I'm as _seemingly_ ignorant of court politics as Sansa. Just because I don't have my own little spies doesn't mean that I don't hear everything."

Margeary looked at Lyra strangely in return. Unsure as to whether this was meant to be threatening or not. To put the future Queen Consort at ease, Lyra told her, quietly,"I want you to know that I'm _still_ interested in our previously agreed alliance." Looking over at Cersei and her clear distaste for Ser Loras, Lyra unconsciously touched her belly, "In fact, I'm now more interested than before." Thinking, she then added, "For _everyone's_ safety and wellbeing."

Though Lyra's message was subtle and coded, Margeary was sharp, and thus caught on to what Lyra was getting at; they'd keep Cersei and her dangerous ambitions at bay together, which a joint effort was likely what it will take. "I'm so sorry that you lost your unborn babe Lady Lyra," she said as she held Lyra's hand in a comforting manner before looking at Cersei then Jaime. "I'm sure that your husband must be very angry at who ever is responsible."

If Lyra were completely honest with herself, she wasn't completely sure if Margeary meant what she said or not. Though she and the future queen were allies, Lyra still felt it unwise to completely trust her. So she simply said "thank you."

* * *

After the coronation in the Throne Room, the feast began. The new King, or course, only being fourteen, had to leave for bed after midnight. However, the feast went on and began to get raunchy, much to the delight of Prince Oberyn and Ellaria Sand. Lyra fondly remembered the big feasts in the North and Dorne, which would go on until the sun rose. _Many_ men would be passionately kissing women in their laps, most of whom were not their wives, back in Dorne; and maybe some would do the same up North. The Capitol was the same, but more of a median between the two. Even Ashara, who was currently in Bronn's lap, was in the middle of passionately kissing the newly knighted man.

Lyra even smiled and blushed as she remembered getting drunk many times during feasts in Winterfell. Robb, drunk as well when they were older, would slip away with her when she was his betrothed, for passionate embraces and kissing.

"You need to eat Lyra," Jaime said, breaking her thoughts of the past. "You've gotten rather skinny and you need to eat more."

Scowling playfully at Jaime, Lyra tried to eat more. Her appetite hadn't been good since Cersei poisoned her and being at a feast reminded her that the last king had been poisoned at his _own wedding_. However, Lyra reminded herself that Cersei would likely still be "laying low" for now, and finished her plate. Pushing her plate out and drinking her wine, Lyra asked Jaime, "Finished my plate. Happy now?"

"Yes. Very much so," he smiled. Holding out his hand, he asked, "Shall we dance?"

The music was rhythmic and upbeat, and Lyra couldn't help but to smile. For a moment, she forgot about all of her worries. No Cersei, no trial; just her and Jaime dancing and enjoying each other's company. It had been so long since Lyra had _truly_ been happy that she felt tears on her cheeks.

Jaime's face fell with concern. "What is it? Are you tired? We can go back." He cupped her cheek, sipping the tear streaks on the side of Lyra's face.

Wiping her face and drying her tears, Lyra smiled, "No, I'm not sad or even remotely upset." She laughed, "I just forgot how it felt to be so carefree and happy."

Smiling and kissing Lyra, she warmly kissed Jaime back. When looking over his shoulder though, her and Oberyn made eye contact.

Prince Oberyn and Aunt Ellaria danced their way over to where Lyra and Jaime were currently dancing.

"Uncle!" Lyra exclaimed. "I see you are enjoying the party!"

Hearing a certain tone in his niece's voice, Oberyn looked at Jaime. "Ser Jaime, would you mind to dance with my lovely lady? I'd like to have a word with my niece," he said good naturedly with mirth in his voice.

As Ellaria and Jaime made small talk, Lyra took Oberon's arm and they strolled through the gardens.

"Have you considered any further what we've discussed?" Lyra asked. Oberyn had promised her that he would consider helping Tyrion during his trial tomorrow.

Oberyn sighed with exasperation, "Lyra...You _know_ I can't-"

"I _know_ that you can't _directly_ help him, but you _can_ do other things to help and you know it," she asserted.

"He's a Lannister. He doesn't deserve my help. Even though I know he didn't do it, he's still one less Lannister to worry about once he's convicted."

"So then you've all already made up your minds before even hearing him out?!" Lyra raged quietly.

"Lyra, Cersei is making quite a solid case against him and you know it," he argued.

"That _cunt_ tried to have me killed-"

"Shhh. Don't forget that she has spies everywhere," Oberyn reminded his niece.

Lowering her voice, Lyra continued,"You would let the woman who tried to have me killed have her way? _Tywin_ wanted Ellia and my cousins killed, and _he_ would love nothing more than to have Tyrion tried and beheaded. You would even be so complacent as to let him have his way?"

Sitting on a bench, Oberyn asked his niece, "So then what would you have me do? Even if I proclaimed him not guilty, I'd still be outnumbered two to one and Tyrion's head will still roll. Tywin will still get his way in the end."

"Come now uncle, I know you're more clever than that," Lyra boldly mocked. "You could at least do something like poking holes in Cersei's case, which I'm sure it's full of as much as it's full of horse shit."

"You know, you're becoming just as stubborn as Meria, and an even bigger thorn in my side these days." Oberyn told his niece irritably, but smiling as he did so. Taking a deep breath, he resolved, "Alright, I suppose that at the very least, I can embarrass her _and_ her lies." Pausing, he added, "I suppose that it _would_ be nice to see that pompous shit pile of gold _and_ his daughter's faces when they don't get their way for once."

Lyra's heart almost burst from joy. The only way this night could get any better was if Cersei, herself, was poisoned. "Thank you uncle," she kissed his cheek with gratitude.

Walking back to the feast, Oberyn added, "It may actually be _fun_ to watch this debacle implode on itself."

Finding Ellaria and Jaime talking and laughing, both clearly drunk, Oberyn took his beautiful paramour back to the dance floor. Feeling the effects of alcohol herself, Lyra sat coyly in Jaime's lap, while picking Ellaria's rather full wine cup and drinking.

Jaime was surprised but pleasantly so, "I must be dreaming. My wife is smiling at me as if nothing is wrong, and if I'm not mistaken, her face is even telling me that she'd like to fuck."

Draining her wine, Lyra smiled at Jaime, "I'm rather drunk. I believe I may need to be carried to the bed chamber my lord." She feigned the role of the fair maiden.

Passionately kissing, Jaime then picked up his wife and carried her to their chambers. Lyra couldn't help but to feel sadistic pleasure at the fact that Cersei saw the whole thing and was quietly raging and fuming as she watched them before promptly drinking more wine.

* * *

 **Next: Tyrion's trial**


	19. Chapter 19: Snake and Wolf Fangs

**Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter is a little short, but I'm desperate to get the point where we start to veer off from the show's story, and things get interesting.**

 **Also: I DO eventually plan to revise all of the chapters; in addition, I DO plan to re-do this entire story in the future, but I'd like to finish this one first.**

 **On with the show!**

 **^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 19: Snake and Wolf Fangs**

"How much do you think Prince Oberyn is going to be able to help?" Tyrion asked, trying not to shake in fear. To say that he was terrified for the upcoming trial, which was due to start any moment, was an understatement.

"He's promised to help as best he can." Jaime reassured his little brother. Though Jaime was no longer Lord Commander of the King's Guard, he had convinced his father to allow him to escort Tyrion to the Throne Room for his trial. After an rather long argument, his father eventually relented and allowed Jaime to be Tyrion's main escort, but two of the King's Guard would be following them for "security reasons".

"I think the only way Prince Oberyn could possibly help me is by poisoning Mace Tyrell and Father, both." Tyrion said more to himself as he drank from the jug of wine that Jaime had been so kind to let him get drunk off of. _I don't think I could go through this debacle that this trial will be without it_.

Jaime, taking another swig himself, though trying not to drink too much, replied to his brother; "Have some faith in him. Lyra does."

"Lyra...thank the gods for Lyra," Tyrion said. Remembering the book she'd given him, he pulled it out of his corner of a bed.

"What's this?" Jaime asked Tyrion curiously.

"Your sweet lady wife gave this to me. Did you know that many believe that the Wall was built by an ice dragon? Can you imagine such a thing?" Tyrion slightly slurred.

Picking up the red, leather bound book, Jaime opened the cover and was genuinely surprised at what he saw. The book was addressed to Lyra in Prince Rhaegar's signature. Even on his death bed, Jaime could never mistake the dead Prince's signature. "She gave you this?" Jaime asked Tyrion, shocked that his sentimental wife would give his brother such a gift from her beloved uncle.

Tearing up a little again at Lyra's kind sisterly gesture, Tyrion quickly dried his tears back up. "She did. She told me that things this valuable and sentimental are the only things worth giving."

As Jaime tried to hand the book back to Tyrion, his brother stopped him; "I can't take this gift. No matter what Lady Lyra says...She's been too kind to me..."

Looking down, Jaime felt great shame again; he had done so many terrible things in his life for his love for Cersei, and here Lyra was, being the only noblewoman to show Tyrion any kindness or sense of belonging as a sister, in addition to loving Jaime and trying to forgive his past. A past that had indirectly resulted in the deaths of people Lyra had loved...

"Tyrion...Lyra _wanted_ for you to have this," Jaime said, forcing the book back into his brother's hands. "I think she might even be insulted if you tried to give it back to her," he said, half jokingly.

There was a knock on the door.

"Lord Jaime. It's time." The guard said.

"Well, we shouldn't keep father waiting," Tyrion said darkly, taking one last swig of wine.

As the guard opened the door, he handed Jaime the manacles.

"Must we really?" Tyrion asked him in an exasperated tone.

Jaime looked at his brother sadly. "It was one of father's conditions if I am to escort you." Tyrion held out his arms, and Jaime shamefully put the chains on his own brother. He couldn't imagine how Tyrion was feeling, but Jaime was feeling quite low.

* * *

Lyra was standing next to Ser Kevan in the court room along with many of her other Lannister relatives. Jaime and Lyra had agreed the night before the trial that Lyra should appear to support House Lannister and the Crown as much as possible for her own safety. Especially since Lyra was actively working to get Tyrion out of this trial and Cersei had already made an attempt on her life once just because Lyra had unintentionally stood in her way by marrying Jaime and being pregnant with his child.

To help accomplish this, Lyra had Joyce dress her this morning in a black dress with red brocade and a gold belt, along with a simple gold pendant with a small ruby and tear drop pear, along with its matching earrings. Wearing her Dornish eyeliner, she paid homage to House Lannister by lining her eyes like a cat's. Lyra, for once, had also forgone her dire wolf ring, knowing that Cersei may be especially volatile today due to the fact that it was the trial for Joffrey's murder as well as the fact that Lyra knew that whatever Oberyn did, he was bound to unhinge Cersei even more. However, Lyra still put the Stark ring on a very long gold chain, hiding the ring beneath the dress at her breast; all people would see was the gold chain with the pendant and another, thinner gold chain.

After getting ready, Lyra convinced Ashara to change into a more Lannister attire just for this one day. Her handmaiden was initially reluctant, but after Lyra privately explained the reason why she was requesting this of her Dornish handmaiden, the other woman relented. Thankfully, Joyce was more than happy to let the other woman borrow one of her old dresses.

Joyce was having a particularly good day it seemed as she was delighted to let Ashara borrow a very Lannister style dress. Joyce even complimented Ashara on how beautiful and becoming the dress was on her. The Lannister handmaiden was even happier when Lyra _asked_ her to style her hair in the half-up braided style like Queen Cersei's.

Lyra and her handmaidens were all sharing wine when there was a knock on her door. Apparently, Jaime had asked Ser Kevan if he would mind to escort his lady wife to the Throne Room.

At first, Lyra was quiet and unsure about Jaime's uncle, but after making some small talk, she realized that despite having such a serious demeanor, Ser Kevan was quite a chivalrous man. He somewhat reminded Lyra of Uncle Benjen.

Passing Cersei, who was being escorted to the Throne Room by Ser Meryn and Ser Boros, Lyra and Kevan greeted her.

"Your Grace," Lyra curtsied. "As your good-sister, my sincerest condolences for your loss," she said with the best sympathetic face she could muster towards the murderous bitch who killed the child growing in her belly.

Lyra must have been fairly convincing because Ser Kevan gave her an approving look, and even Cersei herself seemed to believe her for a moment.

Not wanting to look bad in front of her uncle, Cersei responded, "Thank you Lady Lyra. I hope that after my son's killer is brought to justice, you and I can be sisters." She said with a seemingly well practiced sad, but sweet smile.

Shortly after arriving at the Throne Room, and taking their places, Jaime walked in, followed by Tyrion and two knights of the King's Guard. Standing in his podium, Lyra was pained to see that Tyrion's hands and feet were chained.

 _Is this really necessary? He's a dwarf! How far could he possibly run in a room fully guarded?_

When King Tommen I gave his speech and handed the throne to the Hand, Lord Tywin, Lyra, Jaime and Prince Oberyn briefly exchanged knowing glances.

Lord Tywin stood, "Tyrion of House Lannister, you are accused of the crimes of regicide as well as kinslaying. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty. It was the Gods in their infinite mercy who let Joffrey choke on his pigeon pie."

Lyra felt Jaime flinch next to her, and muttered to himself, "Don't be a fool."

Prince Oberyn smiled and joked, "Well that's a relief. This trial is shorter than I expected."

Visibly irritated with the Dornish Prince, Tywin began to call the first witness.

 _Let the contest of lies begin._

The first person to testify against Tyrion was Ser Meryn Trant who spoke of how Tyrion had threatened Joffrey in front of the court. To which Tyrion responded by telling the sad excuse for a knight to tell the court about what Joffrey was doing. To which Tywin told him to be silent and speak when he was spoken to.

At this, Oberyn spoke to Ser Meryn, "Tell us, what _was_ the late King Joffrey doing exactly when this threat was made?"

To say that Meryn was shocked would be an understatement; the knight could only gape at Lord Tywin, clearly looking for indication as to what he should say.

"I believe Prince Oberyn has asked you a question Ser Meryn." Tywin said dryly.

Thinking for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to spin the events in Joffrey's favor, responded; "He was punishing the traitor, Sansa Stark, for helping her traitor brother's victory in the war."

"Really?" Oberyn mocked, "Pray tell, how exactly was Lady Sansa able to accomplish this as a hostage and King Joffrey's betrothed, all the way in King's Landing, and hundreds of miles away from the Starks?"

Ser Meryn looked stunned. An awkward silence ensued. Tywin looked at Oberyn irritably before dismissing Ser Meryn and calling the next witness.

After Lord Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle gave their testimony, which Oberyn found no room to make a mockery of them; Lancel Lannister was the next witness. Many were shocked at this turn of events, including Jaime and Ser Kevan. However, Lyra was not because she gave Oberyn some "hints" as to whom to question at the trial due to hints Tyrion had drunkenly given her during her visits to his cell.

"It is true, my lords, that the Imp did threaten his Grace in court. He also beat King Joffrey and blamed him for the riots in King's Landing the day the Princess left for Dorne."

The lad looked far too smug and proud of his testimony. Oberyn couldn't wait to wipe the smirk off the little shit's face. "Really now?" Oberyn mocked. The Imp, a dwarf who was what? Maybe _half_ King Joffrey's size was able to _beat_ him? Tell me, boy, how does that work?"

Lancer looked at Tywin, who sighed and nodded for his nephew to answer the question. "He-he beat him like I said."

"How? Describe this to me in detail?"

When Lancel began to stammer, Oberyn shot up from his seat among the judges, "You were there were you not? How are you unable to describe to me in detail as to how a dwarf could beat a boy much taller and stronger than himself?! Is it because, perhaps, you are _lying_?!"

Jaime felt his heart quicken in fear for Lyra. He knew that this was likely her doing as she remained impassively staring at her uncle, trying her hardest _not_ to look smug.

As Lancel stammered for an answer, Oberyn interrupted, "guard," he indicated to the man standing closest to the Lannister lad, "tell me, what does Lancel Lannister smell like." The guard looked at Prince Oberyn questioningly. "Well?"

The guard stood a little closer to Lancel and gave him a quick sniff before answering, "Lavender, Prince Oberyn."

"Ah! If I'm not mistaken, that is a favorite scent of Queen Cersei's is it not?"

The crowd began to mummer at this and Cersei started to feel her face heat with rage and embarrassment. Lancel, however, looked terrified.

"You know Lancel, or should I say _Ser Lancel_. Weren't you knighted after Robert Baratheon's death by Queen Cersei? My informants tell me that you were only the late king's cupbearer before being knighted, and soon afterwards, you became one of Cersei's most important confidants. Is this true?"

"Ye-yes."

"Thank you _Ser Lancel_ for _not_ lying to me for once. Now answer me this: you were not asked to be a witness by me until this morning, correct?"

"Yes."

"So tell me, what did Queen Cersei offer you in exchange for your false testimony? Likely her body since I, myself, witnessed you two go into the Queen's chambers earlier this morning just before this trial. Which is further backed by the fact that you smell of her. Not that I blame you for taking her up on her offer; I'd say that despite being the Queen Mother, Queen Cersei is still one of the most beautiful women in Westeros." Prince Oberyn finished with a smirk.

At this Lancel fell silent, looked at his father with shame and then looked at his feet. The court erupted in a roar of outrage.

Jaime grabbed Lyra's hand and squeezed it. He held her hand almost out of terror that Lyra would be ripped from him at any second by Cersei.

"Silence!" Tywin shouted. The crowd fell so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Turning to his nephew, he told him, clearly trying to control his anger, "Get out."

As Lancel practically scurried away and cowered next to his father, while doing his best _not_ to look guilty of purgury, Tywin sat back down.

Tyrion looked at Prince Oberyn, gratefully. If he _does_ get found guilty, at least Cersei and Joffrey would be exposed for who they really are. Tyrion began to feel relieved, that is, until the next witness was called: Shae.

Stating her name, Shea went on to explain Tyrion and Sansa's marriage to the entire court and of how Tyrion wanted to fuck her, but she didn't want him.

"Please, Shae..." Tyrion said with such sadness in his voice.

The woman Tyrion had fallen in love with then went on to tell the court of how Tyrion had promised to poison Joffrey for Sansa in order for her to sleep with him; which Shae claimed she overheard as Sansa's handmaiden.

At this, Tyrion broke.

When Tyrion began to laugh like a madman, Lyra began to worry.

 _NO NO! TYRION NO!_

 _"I wish that I was the monster that you all make me out to be! My lords and ladies, I am not on trial for murder; I will tell you what I am on trial for: FOR BEING A DWARF! I see that I will get no justice here, so I will ask the Gods to grant me justice."_

 _Oh no..._

"I DEMAND A TRIAL BY COMBAT!"

Lyra had to hold back her tears and it was all Jaime could do not to shout at Tyrion for being such a fool.

Cersei, however, smirked and looked at Prince Oberyn. The man had been itching to fight the Mountain ever since Ser Gregor killed his precious sister, and she fully intended to give him the opportunity.

 _He dares to make a fool of me? Then I will show him that a Lannister always pays her debts._

* * *

 ** _Next: The Viper vs. The Mountain_**


	20. Chapter 20: Vengeance

**Author's Note: A bit of a long chapter in terms of "there's a lot of shit that goes down in just one chapter".**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 20: Vengeance**

When everyone in the Throne Room heard Tyrion Lannister demand a trial by combat, the room roared in indignation. Everyone was either shocked or angry or both, that is, everyone except for Cersei, who's face broke into a smug but triumphant smile. Lyra wasn't too sure what the Queen's reaction meant exactly, but Lyra knew enough about Cersei to figure that whatever the murderous bitch was planning, it did not bode well for Tyrion.

Lord Tywin ordered the two knights the the King's Guard who had walked with Jaime to take Tyrion into the Throne Room for his trial. Jaime wanted to escort Tyrion back to his cell so that he could ask his little brother what in the Seven Hells had gotten into him. Under normal circumstances, Jaime would had demanded that he escort Tyrion, however, Lyra needed him more at the moment; with Prince Oberyn insulting not only House Lannister, but also, more directly, the volatile Queen, as well as helping greatly to disrupt and expose the rampant lies that ran through the trial, Jaime felt that it was Lyra who was currently in much more need of his protection.

As soon as they could, Lyra and Jaime, both, left the Throne Room with great urgency. Quickly, Lyra and Jaime walked down the castle hallways back to their chambers.

"What _the fuck_ has he done?!" Lyra said, almost in tears.

The door had barely closed behind them when Lyra practically shouted this in anger. All of that time and energy: wasted. Now Tyrion, who was currently one of the most hated men in the Capitol, was asking for a trial by combat; which Lyra knew that nobody would come to her good-brother's aid. Cersei had already made quite sure that everyone who would possibly help Tyrion was bought out or threatened.

 _Again, Cersei will get what she wants...She pitted my unborn child's murder as well as my own attempted murder on_ _Tyrion, while also falsifying evidence and tampering with witnesses to make sure that he goes down for the crime she committed against me as well as Joffrey's murder._

Lyra thought bitterly as she poured herself wine, _Oberyn was right...there's no justice to be found in King's Landing; only injustices reign here._

Jaime hadn't said a word since they had walked into their chambers. He simply sat down on their bed and put his face in his hands. _My brother is going to die, and there is nothing that I can do about it_. If Jaime still had his good hand, he would be Tyrion's champion in an instant. Hell! He'd be Tyrion's champion just to spite Cersei and Father, but Lyra...

Looking over to his wife, who was currently pacing the room in deep thought, Jaime realized that he couldn't be Tyrion's champion. He couldn't leave Lyra, she'd be devastated; and if he were completely honest with himself, even just the mere thought of being separated with her was painful.

Jaime felt a nudge on his shoulder and realized that Lyra was handing him wine. Plopping down next to him on the bed she said to him, "You look like you could use some wine." She looked at him sympathetically, "He's just my good brother and _I'm_ terrified for him. I can't imagine how you must be feeling..."

They drank together in silence, both trying to imagine ways that they could try to get Tyrion out of his predicament, but alas, neither of them could.

Figuring she'd had enough wine as her head was starting to swim, Lyra laid down on the bed. Jaime joined her soon after, lying his head on her breast and closing his eyes. It had been a long and hard day for them both.

 _My brother is fucked and there's nothing that can be done for him_ , was all that Jaime kept repeating in his head. Lyra was stroking his hair, trying to soothe her husband's worries. It was a sad attempt; she knew that _nothing_ could be done.

"I'm so sorry Jaime," Lyra found herself choking out tearfully. "I-I tried so hard to save him." Wiping her tears, she continued, "It just wasn't enough." She was crying for Jaime and Tyrion both.

It hurt to see his wife shed tears for his brother when Jaime himself had not. Helping his wife wipe the tears from her eyes, Jaime leaned his forehead against hers. "No need to be sorry my sweet wife. You did everything you could to help him. And it worked up until whatever in the Seven Hells possessed him to demand a trial by combat."

Looking into her husband's green eyes, Lyra realized that she'd never seen him cry; which was strange to her. She'd seen Oberyn and even Prince Doran cry, but never Jaime. However, looking into his normally sparkling eyes, Lyra felt that he may as well be crying. He looked like he felt hopeless and despair.

Lyra wasn't sure what possessed her to do so, but without thinking, she got off the bed, reached behind and began to unlace her her dress.

Jaime wasn't quite sure as to what exactly Lyra was doing. Initially, he thought she may be getting ready to stay in for the night since it was getting dark outside. It wasn't until his wife had completely shed her clothes, letting them drop to the floor, and began to unlace his breeches that Jaime realized what she was getting at.

It was strange, neither said a word; instead, they simply focused on each other. Jaime was already aroused from seeing his young wife's naked body, so after she pulled off his tunic, all she had to do was simply sit on his cock. Both of them sighed in relief and pleasure when Lyra took his cock and slipped Jaime into her slick core. Bracing herself on his chest, Lyra rode Jaime aggressively, almost as if she was trying to turn her despair and frustration about the trial into pleasure from sex.

Jaime closed his eyes in pleasure, resting his head back as he rested his gold hand on Lyra's hip and let his good hand roam over her small rounded breasts. At this, she threw her head back and let out a soft moan before trying to push him as deep as she could. She let out a gasp, she'd forgotten how good it felt to take him so deeply; due to her horrible miscarriage, Jaime couldn't go as deep as she liked, but now she'd recovered enough to have sex as they would normally.

Realizing that Lyra could push him deep without pain, Jaime flipped her so he could get on top, but was surprised when she got on her belly. Initially unsure as to whether he would be hurting her or not, Jaime put himself back into his wife, moving in a shallow and steady rhythm.

Getting close to peaking, but frustrated that Jaime wouldn't go deeper, Lyra managed to get out, "Don't worry. Just. Go. Deeper. And. Faster." It came out far more sexual and needy than Lyra had intended, but it worked.

Lyra and Jaime were both panting heavily. It had been a while since they'd fucked so vigorously. The guards outside could no doubt hear them fucking, but neither Jaime nor Lyra them cared; both of them were too lost in the other. Lyra practically screamed into the pillow she had put vertically beneath her when she finished. She figured that Jaime must have finished hard in her as well since he, almost bruisingly, gripped her hips before pumping as deep as he could into her core. She couldn't hear him very well due to the ringing in her ears.

Knees and elbows sore, Lyra practically fell over when her husband gingerly pulled out and lay next to her. It felt surreal yet comforting as the two of them lay in each other's arms, basking in their afterglow, while the last bit of sunlight went out.

After a while, when night came and the sunlight had completely died out, Lyra reluctantly got up and lit the candles. Having enough light to find her robe, Lyra looked at Jaime's face; he was fast asleep. She doubted that he had been sleeping much due to worrying over Tyrion's trial.

Though getting into the warm bed with Jaime was quite an appealing idea, Lyra still felt a little on edge from the day's events. Walking over to sit in a chair, she was thinking she'd have a bit of dream wine before bed when she heard a knock on the door.

Getting up from her chair and putting her wine down, Lyra quickly, but silently went to answer the door. Jaime was asleep, which Lyra felt was a state he needed to be in right now.

Opening the door slightly, Lyra was surprised to see Oberyn.

"Uncle!" She said, surprised.

"I must speak with you and your...eh _husband_ , for a moment. It's important. I think I can help the Imp" he said with some urgency and-was he smiling out of happiness?

Lyra's uncle waited patiently outside their chambers while she gently shook Jaime awake. He looked at her groggily.

Handing her husband his breeches and a plain tunic, Lyra told him, "It's Oberyn. He thinks that he can help Tyrion."

At this, Jaime's eyes became alert and he quickly got out of bed to get dressed.

Straightening up the sitting area, Lyra heard Jaime open the door for Oberyn.

"Sorry to... _disturb_ the two of you," Lyra's uncle said to them cheekily when he saw their disheveled bed.

Lyra inwardly groaned at this; that area probably smelled like sex too.

All three of them sitting down, Lyra and Jaime on the sofa and Prince Oberyn sat opposite them in a chair while drinking the wine in his hand.

"I just spoke with the Hand and Cersei," Oberyn began, "Cersei has summoned the Mountain to be the Crown's champion. She's asked him to ride immediately so he should be arriving any day."

Jaime and Lyra exchanged worried glances. Any chance of someone coming forward to fight on Tyrion's behalf was now gone.

 _My brother's done..._

Lyra put her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes before addressing her uncle, "If that's the way they are going to play it, then why not just have Ser Illyn take his head now? Even _that_ would be more merciful."

Prince Oberyn looked at Jaime darkly. "Why would it be more merciful when the Imp has a perfectly capable champion?"

Lyra was just as confused as Jaime, until the horrible realization dawned on her.

"Uncle!" Lyra was virtually speechless. Why would Oberyn risk his life at the hands of the Mountain to defend a man he wants dead?

Jaime, on the other hand, was elected that his brother finally had a chance. Prince Oberyn was known for being a swift and cunning yet powerful warrior; he stood a good chance at defeating Ser Gregor.

* * *

It took only three days for the Mountain to arrive to King's Landing to be the Crown's champion. He arrived in the morning while Lyra and Jaime were having breakfast. Ashara subtly told Lyra about the Mountain's arrival as she was helping her lady dress.

 _Ashara knows me too well._

Lyra's handmaiden truly did know her too well as she ran along the battlements overseeing the Mountain's practice arena. Cersei had everyone who was in the dungeons rounded up, given _real_ swords and forced to fight the Mountain so that he could practice. Their reward if they defeated him? Freedom. Lyra found it cruel to promise such a thing, even to rapers and murderers.

Watching as well, Cersei's expression go from indifferent to smug as she stepped over each body belonging to a soul who was just brutally killed by the infamous Ser Gregor Clegane.

After the Mountain disembowled one man in a particularly gruesome fashion, Lyra thought she was going to be sick. She'd seen beheadings and brutal executions like drawing and quartering, but _this_? This was brutish and pointless violence. Something Lyra's still somewhat sick stomach couldn't handle.

Lyra felt the tears start to fall from her eyes as she left the battlements. When she got closer to entering the interior of the Red Keep though, she began to dry her tears and appear as if nothing was wrong, just as her mother and septa had taught her.

Picking up her pace as she walked towards Prince Oberyn's quarters, Lyra didn't even give the guards the opportunity to announce her. Bursting through the doors, Lyra was horrified to see that her uncle, the man who became the father figure in her life, was trying on his _light_ Dornish armor.

" _Light_ _armor_ to face The Fucking Mountain?!"

"Close your mouth dear. It's unladylike _and_ it makes your chin look longer," a clearly drunk Princess Meria said to an unsuspecting Lyra. Lyra's mother was, what appeared to be, polishing her older brother's spears.

"Uncle, you _can't_ go through with this," Lyra said, almost tearfully. Walking to him as he was looking at his armor for weaknesses in the looking glass, Lyra could smell how drunk he was.

Turning to his niece, he replied, "Oh but I can, and I _must_." Taking off his helm, Oberyn motioned for his niece to sit.

"Drink this, it helps take the edge off," said an intoxicated Princess Arienne as she took a seat next to Lyra on the sofa. Taking the goblet of, what she had initially presumed to be wine, Lyra drank it. Only to find out that it was probably one of Ellaria's intoxicating herby mixtures. Finishing the glass, Lyra felt strangely calm and warm, albeit a little drunk feeling, but she was alert and could think clearer than she could initially.

"Why?" Was all Lyra wanted to know. Why would Oberyn risk his life for Tyrion's and why would he risk it just to spite Cersei.

Oberyn just laughed as if the answer should be obvious. "Because my sweet niece, I have been looking for this man, the Mountain," he finished darkly. "I have been searching for an opportunity to outright kill this man for _killing Rhaenys and_ _raping my sister with baby Aegon's blood still on his hands before cutting her in half with his_ _great_ _sword_." Picking up a goblet, her filled it with wine, "And that day is today." He finished with a gulp of wine.

 _Today?!_ Lyra knew that Tywin wanted this over with as soon as possible, but she didn't think that they would start the Trial by Combat the morning Clean arrived.

Lyra could only watch as everyone drank and talked so confidently of Prince Oberyn's victory against the Mountain. At Ellaria's insistence, Lyra drank too until she felt just as confident as everyone else. Before she knew it, Uncle Oberyn had her laughing like everyone else in the room. The wine and herbs that Ellaria was serving along with Oberyn's naturally jovial personality, the surreal but light atmosphere of the room was infectious.

* * *

Walking down the halls back to the rooms her and Jaime shared, Lyra did her best not to appear intoxicated, but she couldn't help the smug smile stuck on her face.

 _Damnit Ellaria!_ It was likely the herbs in the drinks that made Lyra feel so giddy inside _. I just hope that Oberyn will have sobered up enough to face the Mountain._

Arriving at the rooms, Lyra was relieved to find that no-one else was there. Deciding to lie down until the dizzying effects of the herbs subsided, she started walking towards the bed, stumbling. Clumsily taking her shoes off, she got in bed and curled up with Jaime's pillow. It was a strange thing to do when one thought about it, but Lyra found it comforting. The pillow smelled a bit like Jaime, so it made Lyra feel like she wasn't alone.

"Drinking _this_ early?"

Lyra was so shocked to hear someone else in the room with her that if she had a knife, the blade would have flown in the voice's way.

As Lyra sat up on the bed, her heart beating madly. "Gods Jaime!" It made her angry that he was laughing. "Were you hiding?!" She asked.

"No," he said as he sat on the bed with his wife, "I'm afraid that you were simply too drunk to notice that I was also getting drunk on the sofa."

"So you heard then?" Lyra asked seriously.

"When you left, I heard that Ser Gregor had arrived from two blonde handmaidens _you_ know quite well," he replied, almost soberly.

Taking the wine from him, _he's getting too drunk, though I can't blame him I suppose,_ Lyra dumped some of the herbs Ellaria had given her into his goblet.

"Drink. It'll calm and relax you, while keeping you relatively alert," she said to him, handing the goblet back to him.

Jaime looked at his wife questioningly before downing the herbs in his drink. Gods it tasted terrible.

"Shouldn't you be with Tyrion? The Trial by Combat is today in just a couple of hours," Lyra said sounding confident.

"I plan to, don't worry," Jaime assured Lyra, kissing her head. "I just...needed a drink first."

"Mmm, you should bring a good red for Tyrion."

"Already got it," he said, pointing to a jug at the door. "Speaking of which, I'll see you at the trial." Kissing his wife, he got up to leave.

Thinking about Tyrion and how horribly nervous he must be right now, Lyra poured a little more of the calming and confidence boosting herbs into a goblet before telling Jaime to take the rest and give them to Tyrion.

* * *

Lyra was disappointed that she only got to nap for an hour before her handmaidens came in to help her ready for the trial.

Getting up, she asked her handmaidens only to help her get out of her current dress. After they unlaced her, Lyra took the dress off and went to the wardrobe. Looking around, she initially couldn't find the dress she was looking for. Looking frantically and deeper into the wardrobe, Lyra found the dress she was looking for.

Ashara was immediately pleased when she saw the dress Lyra had chosen; Joyce, not so much.

"Ashara, please get me my jewelry from home? You know, where I usually keep it." Lyra intended to look like a Martell today.

Lyra vaguely worried if the dress would still fit. When she put it on, she was pleased to find that the dress still fit, but it was a little loose.

After Joyce finished brushing her hair and Lyra finished with her eye liner, she looked in the looking glass, pleased. The dress itself was Martell orange with long, paneled sleeves and a deep neckline, all lined in a sun yellow silk. There were two large Martell suns embellished with rubies and orange topaz on the shoulders of the dress while the sun's yellow embroidered fiery rays almost wrapped her breasts. To top it off, Lyra wore a sun pendant (mother had given it to her for her tenth name day) with a thin gold chain and a matching necklace that wrapped thick, long pieces of gold loosely around her neck in an almost snake like fashion. Choosing dangling earrings that closely matched the pendant she was wearing, Lyra put on her dire wolf ring on one hand and a gold ring on the other. She was ready when Ser Addam knocked on the door to escort her to the battlegrounds, and left looking every bit the Dornish-woman she was.

Arriving to the battlegrounds, holding Ser Addam's arm, Lyra realized that they were one of the last to arrive. Though Ser Addam insisted she join Lord Tywin, Queen Cersei, and King Tommen and the rest of the Lannisters, Lyra politely refused; instead, she chose to stand with Oberyn and the rest of the Martells. To which, much to Lyra's irritation, Ser Addam followed as her guard.

Everyone was surprised to see Lyra's presence, especially her choice of dress; but Oberyn wasn't. Drunk, Oberyn picked her up and spun her around like he used to do when she was just a girl. "You look so much like your mother at your age, but fairer, long faced, and more beautiful," Meria gave her brother an exasperated look as he kissed Lyra on the head of her loose black hair. "A good omen. We shall take our revenge for House Martell very soon," he said confidently.

"Light armor?! You could at least wear a helmet! _My_ life is also at stake you know. And are you drinking before a fight?!" Tyrion interrupted with Jaime close behind him.

"Today is not the day I die," Oberyn responded soberly.

The crowd began to get rowdy when the Mountain arrived. In full armor. Though the Mountain was a distance away, Lyra now understood why so many a knight were absolutely terrified of him. As if the man wasn't terrifying to watch this morning, he was even more terrifying in full armor. Ellaria, Lyra, and Meria had all witnessed how an exceptional soldier and warrior Prince Oberyn was, but even they were concerned.

"He is the biggest thing I have ever seen!" Aunt Ellaria was the first to speak.

"Size does not matter when you're flat on your back," Oberyn assured her. Looking over to Lyra, Meria, and Arienne, he added, "Lyra and my daughters all know this very well from combat." Looking at his sister, he smiled and quipped, "my sister _also_ knows this in her own way to be very true too." At this, Meria blushed and looked over at Oberyn's spears menacingly. "Alright, alright! Brandon may not have been like that, but that _pompous sack of flowers_ from the Reach _definitely_ was. I would know." Oberyn drunkenly laughed when Meria slapped him indignantly, before pulling her into a hug and a kiss and telling her how much he loved her. To which Meria fiercely embraced her brother and teared up a bit.

Lyra looked down when she saw their playful banter turn serious, a little embarrassed, but still, it was funny. Even as Oberyn could be walking straight into his death, he and his little sister, Meria, still joked and poked at each other's pride playfully.

After the horn blew to signal the start of the fight, Grand Maester Pycelle came into the arena to give a speech. The wizened old man quickly lost his train of thought when he began talking about Man and the Gods and the Mother's Mercy, to which the crowd simply stood and clapped for him just to get him out. Apparently, Cersei and the Martells were not the only people present who could not wait to watch the Viper face the Mountain.

When the horn blew to signal the start of the match, Ellaria dramatically, but seriously, pulled Oberyn into a passionate kiss and begged him, "Don't leave me alone in this world."

Grabbing his spear, Oberyn looked back and her with love in his eyes. "Never," he told her; serious and focused.

Taking his spear, Oberyn did the dance that he usually does for the crowd right before the melee in a tourney. It was a very impressive dance, but it also had more than a flashy purpose; it was to show the crowd and his opponent, both, that he was an exceptionally skilled warrior who was to not be underestimated.

Watching her uncle execute the dance flawlessly, Lyra felt herself relax a little. _Good. He's in top form today_.

The Mountain was not so impressed though; he immediately called Prince Oberyn "some dead man" and the fight was on.

Parrying a particularly powerful blow, Oberyn was unfazed and chattered away.

"I will hear you confess before you die!"

Looking at Tywin accusingly, Oberyn added, "You rapped and murdered my sister, Elia Martell, and then you killed her children! Confess and we can make this quick!"

After blocking another fierce attack from the Mountain, Oberyn got the upper hand on the much larger man and knocked his helm off.

 _He's wide open! Strike him now and end this!_ Lyra screamed in her head, tears pricking her eyes.

Oberyn then deftly jumped around the large, but surprisingly fast man, and nailed his sword to the stone with his spear.

"Admit it!"

Recovering, the Mountain struck back and Oberyn, who swiftly dodged him and put some distance between them.

Looking at her uncle's gleeful face as he goaded the Mountain, Lyra felt her nerves kick in. _Oberyn! Don't get yourself killed!_ However, she was greatly relieved when Oberyn knocked the Mountain to his knees before jumping him and delivering, what should have been, a fatal blow.

"No No No No! You cannot die yet! You have not confessed!"

 _NO!_

What happened next was a blur, but Lyra would never, _ever_ , be able to wipe the events that unfolded before her from her mind. As it all happened, everything was silent for Lyra. Oberyn had the Mountain, dying from his wound, on his back before he started shouting at him and came too close. Next thing Lyra knew, the Mountain was on top of her uncle, crushing his skull by gouging out his eyes with his thumbs. That is, before Oberyn's head was crushed, _crushed_ like a watermelon. Lyra tried to look away, but she couldn't. She felt mostly shocked and numb, then she felt sweaty and hot before vomiting. After heaving back up everything she had eaten that day, she stumbled onto her feet and ran.

* * *

It took a long time until Jaime could calm Lyra down enough to even get her to drink the powerful drought he had Pycelle make for his devastated wife. When she had run from the battleground after Prince Oberyn's head exploded, Jaime couldn't leave immediately. Tyrion was naturally quite devastated; Jaime had to assure his brother that everything would be alright before running after his wife.

Following just enough behind her, Jaime actually lost her in the Red Keep after they turned a couple of corners. However, he had a feeling as to where she was, especially given the distressed and slightly intoxicated state she was in.

Sure enough, walking to their rooms, there she was; disheveled and weeping against a wall.

"He's gone! He's gone and there was nothing I could do!" Were a couple of the two intelligible things she was saying. What hurt the most was when she said, "My father is gone! And now the closest person I had to a father is gone! I'm fucking cursed!"

Even without his good hand, Jaime could still pick Lyra up off the floor and put her on their bed. He didn't know what to say. Were there even words to say in this situation? Jaime had seen many horribly gruesome things people can do to one another, but watching the Mountain crush Oberyn's head only for it to explode was definitely in the top ten. For Lyra though, this was without a doubt the _very worst_ thing she'd ever seen in her life.

All Jaime could do until her handmaidens arrived so he could send them for a drought from Pycelle, was hold Lyra tightly against himself and assure her that he would not leave her. Sweating, cold, and shaking, Lyra told him, "Every time I close my eyes, I see it!" Before another wave of utter despair would hit her and she'd be unable to stop crying for a while.

For once, Jaime was thankful for his wife's handmaidens. As soon as they walked in and found their lady in such a state, Joyce immediately went for a sleeping drought and Ashara looked for the dream wine Lyra apparently usually had stowed away in the sitting area when she had trouble sleeping.

Helping Lyra drink the small amount of Dream Wine since her hands were shaking so hard Ashara was afraid that she'd drop it, Lyra finally calmed down enough to dress for the night. Looking at the Dream Wine gave Jaime an idea.

When Joyce burst in carrying the drought, Jaime quickly hid the Dream Wine under the bed skirt. Taking the drought from Joyce, Jaime dismissed them for the night. When both ladies exchanged worried glances, he assured them that their lady would be fine.

Bolting the door behind them, Jaime followed Lyra to bed.

"Here. Things will be better in the morning."

Lyra hesitated at this, "it's so early though. The sun's light has only just completely gone out." Her voice shaking.

Even with the calming effects of the Dream Wine, Lyra was still so devastated and shocked by today that she was still in shock. It reminded Jaime of when he saw the Mad King "artfully" burn a man alive in his own armor; but that was a story for another time.

Soothingly stroking Lyra's freshly brushed hair, Jaime told her, "The sun went down completely hours ago. Lyra you're in shock. You need to sleep. I promise everything will be better in the morning." He handed her the drought, which she took with shaking hands and drank.

Lying down and relaxing as the drought began to work, Lyra made Jaime promise her that he would never leave her. Resting her head on Jaime's chest, hearing his strong heart beat, Lyra reluctantly allowed sleep to take her.

* * *

It must have been the early hours of the morning when Lyra was awoken by screams. She had been dead asleep with Jaime's arms wrapped around her when one of the guards banged on the door.

"My lord and Lady! Come quick! The Hand of the King is Dead!"

Jaime jumped out of bed and told Lyra to wait for him before leaving her with both guards and Ser Addam. However, quickly becoming anxious, Lyra pulled on her robe and went to the Tower of the Hand with Ser Addam. Climbing the steps Lyra was able to hear some of the commotion.

"What shall we do with the woman your Grace?" Lyra recognized the voice of one of the Lannister captains.

"She's just a whore. Throw her body into the sea," Cersei spat.

Reaching Jaime and Cersei and a few members of the King's Guard, Lyra gasped. Tywin Lannister, who united all seven kingdoms under the fear of this man, was dead on the privy with arrows in his belly.

"Why is she here?! She's not family!" Cersei practically screeched at Lyra, who was still quite groggy from the drought.

"Your grace, calm down. Of course she's family, she's your good-sister, and now she's Lady Lannister," Ser Kevan spoke gravely but as politely as he could.

A Lannister guard then ran in, "my Lord and Lady," he addressed Jaime and Lyra, "Your Grace, Tyrion Lannister has escaped."

"Find him! Burn the bloody tower down if you have to!" Cersei was clearly unhinged from rage.

As soon as the guards left, Cersei slapped Jaime," You did this! You and your love for our monstrous brother got our father killed!"

Though groggy, Lyra wasn't too groggy to come to her husband's defense. Coming to his side and lightly touching Jaime's face, Lyra shot back, "He's been with me the whole night Cersei."

"Aye your Grace, the door was bolted all night," Ser Addam helped.

Frustrated, Cersei shouted, "Out! Just get out!"

None of them needed to be told twice. Even Ser Kevan left.

"I'm sorry for the Queen, Lord and Lady Lannister, she forgets herself in her grief. You understand, right," Ser Kevan said before going back to his own quarters. Lyra supposed that if Cersei was going to behave unreasonably, then he would have no part in it.

Arriving back to their rooms, Jaime thanked Ser Addam before re-bolting the door.

Wide awake but eager to go back to sleep, Lyra and Jaime climbed back into bed. This time, it was Lyra's turn to console Jaime.

Getting into their usual sleeping positions, Lyra pushed back Jaime's hair, which had grown back and gotten in his face during sleep. "Jaime, I'm so sorry about your father." Lyra may not have liked Lord Tywin, but he _was_ Jaime's father, and she was sincerely sad for Jaime that he was gone.

Reaching under the bed to grab the Dream Wine, Jaime got up and got two goblets. Pouring them both a drink for sleep, he sat back down on the bed and drank deeply before telling Lyra what he had done.

"I did it...I released Tyrion to save him...and he killed my father. _I_ killed my father," he whispered to himself more than Lyra.

"There's no way you could have known, Jaime. You were just doing what any good brother would do," Lyra soothed him.

Jaime then held her against him. "I'm sorry, Lyra, but I have to break my promise to you." At this she looked up at him, concerned. "I promise that we won't be parted long, but it's no longer safe here for you. With Oberyn gone and now my father, Cersei reigns unfettered." He kissed her, "I'm so sorry Lyra."

Putting her head back down on Jaime's chest, Lyra felt the dream wine taking effect; but she fought sleep. She didn't want it to take her. She was afraid that she would never see Jaime again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry it's so disjointed! I spent all day writing this and it's VERY LONG. I'll re-draft it soon! Good night everyone!**

 **Next: Lyra leaves King's Landing with a Lannister army and Jaime mourns for Tywin.**


	21. Chapter 21: Lady Lannister

**Chapter 21: Lady Lannister**

Lyra, her mother, aunt, and cousin all watched tearfully as Prince Oberyn's body was carried onto the boat headed to Sunspear. Lyra had tried to convince Princesses Meria and Arienne to let Prince Oberyn's mourning to be done in the Capitol so that she could mourn for him as well; but Ellaria had insisted that the mourning rituals be completed in Sunspear.

"He hated this place," Lyra's aunt told them, "He loved Sunspear. He should be buried and mourned for at his home...with his brother and daughters present. Not a place full of enemies." As strong as Ellaria Sand was, losing her true love had a devastating effect on her. In fact, she had been grieving for her paramour so much that she couldn't even wear her eyeliner because it would all simply melt off.

As the smaller boat began it's journey back to the docks to pick up Meria, Arienne, and Ellaria, Lyra began to feel the grief and anxiety of being stuck with complete strangers for the first time in her life. All of the Martells would be leaving today except for Lyra. Not only was she to say good-bye to her beloved uncle, but she would also be saying good-bye to her mother and her other relatives for a long time.

When the boat arrived, all four women embraced each other as a good-bye. As Ellaria and Princess Arienne got into the boat, Princess Meria pulled Lyra aside.

"You're grown now Lyra, with a husband and the lady of a castle I never even dreamt of seeing you in. I know that I was never Lady of Winterfell, but I tried to show you how to run a household as best I could," Meria told her only daughter regretfully. Looking down sadly as she thought of Brandon, she continued, "I never told you, but originally, _I_ was meant to marry Prince Rhaegar."

Lyra was stunned, she had never heard this before.

"My older sister had a kind wit, but mother knew that Elia would probably be too tame and unable to hold Prince Rhaegar's attention; which is likely why he courted me instead of her when the Targaryen's visited Sunspear, looking for a bride for Prince Rhaegar...and also probably why he did what he did with your aunt Lyanna." Looking at the Red Keep, Meria continued, "Sometimes I think that if I hadn't spurned my own marriage arrangements, perhaps everyone I lost to the War would still be alive. My sweet big sister and brother would still be here." She finished with tears in her eyes.

"It's not your fault mother. You couldn't have known..." Lyra comforted her mother, but she was not done yet.

Taking a deep breath and drying her eyes, Meria continued; "I spurned duty for love. The moment I saw Brandon Stark and we locked eyes at that tourney, it was like love at first sight. I didn't even believe in that until I met your father..." Meria seemed to say the last part more to herself that to Lyra. "Rhaegar was beautiful, but your father...he was the most handsome man I thought I had ever met. Passionate, hot blooded, impulsive...he could have been Dornish. Later that night at the tourney, we found ourselves together all night. When morning came, we were drunk, but we were sure; we wanted to be married. First, we were married in front of the Old Gods, and Oberyn was our witness," Meria's eyes became misty as she re-called the beautiful memory. "Your grandfather, Rickard, and my mother were so angry when they found out. They even tried their best to annul our marriage, until I found out that I was pregnant with you in Sunspear. As soon as Brandon found out, he rode day and night from Winterfell, just to be by my side, proclaiming that he would not allow his _wife_ to give birth alone. Your father was so happy the day you were born. I think my favorite memory of us as a family was the day you were born; I was exhausted from twenty four hours of labour, but when Brandon was allowed into the birthing room, he held you tearing from overwhelming joy. He held my hand as he named you 'Lyra Stark of Winterfell'. After that, Brandon said that there was nothing in this world that could keep our little family apart; not even his father's threats to disinherit him phased Brandon, he was so passionate and fearless." Smiling and laughing bitterly, Meria added, "ironically, those traits that kept us together are also what ultimately parted us."

Emotion swelled in Lyra; "Sometimes, I wonder what father would think of my marriage to Jaime..." She added sadly. She doubted Brandon would have approved.

"He would have had his reservations about Jaime, as we all did, but I believe that he would be proud to know that not even the Lannisters could change who you are; and that you can balance being Lady Lannister while also not straying from your Stark and Martell roots. And he would especially be proud of how passionate and independent you are."

At this, Princess Arienne told Meria that the captain was eager to leave before the tides began to come in.

Lyra's mother kissed and held her one last time before she turned to leave and get onto the boat. "You will be a great Lady Lannister my love."

As the small boat began to paddle away from the docks, Lyra picked up her black skirts and ran to the edge. Fist in the air, as if she were holding a spear, Lyra yelled to her departing family; "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken."

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," they all yelled back in unison. Symbolizing their solidarity as a family.

* * *

Jaime sighed irritably. He had not slept in two days and he needed to organize the Lannister army as soon as possible so that Lyra could leave and be safe. Thankfully, his childhood friend, Ser Addam, had volunteered to help.

"According to Lord Tywin's documents and notes, House Lannister currently only has around eight thousand active duty soldiers, including about three hundred knights. After Robb Stark's army was defeated and Stannis Baratheon was beaten at the Battle of the Blackwater, he sent most of the remaining soldiers and knights back home to guard the Westernlands in his absence," Ser Addam relayed to Jaime, who sat listening with his heavy eyes closed.

Though Jaime eventually figured out how to read despite his "affliction", it still made reading quite difficult when he was exhausted. Ser Addam had been kind enough to read his father's documents to him. Jaime made a mental note to thank his childhood friend in some way when they got to the Rock. Not only had Addam agreed immediately to leave the Gold Cloaks as soon as Jaime asked him to help guard his lady wife, but he also lied to Cersei for Jaime the night Lord Tywin was killed. Jaime was sure that Addam knew that he hadn't left to get food from the kitchens, which is likely why he told Cersei that Jaime had not left the room all night. Jaime couldn't be more grateful to have such a friend; one whom he could trust without doubt, which is why he only had him guarding Lyra that night as he went to free Tyrion.

"Lord Jaime." Jaime awoke from his short slumber to Ser Addam lightly shaking his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Jaime apologized; rubbing his eyes. "What was that?"

"How many men do you plan to send with Lady Lannister on her journey to the Trident?"

"I'm not sure...how dangerous do you think the road to the Trident would be?"

"It seems to me that all of the major battles and conflicts towards the Crown and House Lannister have stopped, for now at least. Most lords and their vassals have gone home to prepare for the Winter."

"And Lyra will be going through the territory of our allies. So the journey will be relatively safe for her," Jaime mused. Most of the armies have gone back home for the Winter, and Jaime needed to send the remaining Lannister soldiers back as well since he was now the head of House Lannister and he did not plan to remain in the Capitol after his father's mourning period was over in five days. He wanted to send Lyra with half of the Lannister forces to the Rock, however, Cersei demanded that Jaime leave her at least 2,000 red cloaks in addition to commanding him to stop the Siege of Riverrun on his way to join Lyra at Casterly Rock. Jaime only had 6,000 red cloaks to split between himself and Lyra, and he needed a larger portion for Riverrun. As much as Jaime loathed to do so, he would have to send Lyra with only 2,000.

"I'm going to send Lyra to the Rock with 2,000 men, including half of the knights pledged to House Lannister. Cersei demanded 2,000 soldiers be left with her in King's Landing, but we're taking _all_ of our knights back to the Westernlands with us."

"I think that will be more than enough, especially with 150 knights," Addam agreed.

"Do you miss home, Ser Addam?" Jaime asked.

"I think about home everyday, my lord," Ser Addam responded. "It would be nice to go back and see my family again," he admitted.

"Good," Jaime said. "I want you to go with Lyra; I'm charging you with her safety."

Ser Addam stood at attention; "Lady Lannister is in good hands my lord. I shan't let you down."

"I'm relieved to hear so," Jaime got out a quill and parchment, and began writing.

* * *

Lyra was tired by the time evening came. In fact, she had already taken off her black mourning gown to get ready for bed by the time her handmaidens came to help her ready for the night.

It seemed the whole castle was busy: soldiers were looking all over the Red Keep for Tyrion; the royal family was mourning for Lord Tywin; and half of the Lannister household, now under Lyra's control, was preparing to depart with her for the Trident tomorrow. This morning, Lyra and Jaime dressed and went to the Sept of Baelor to pay their respects to Lord Tywin. Lyra had to leave when afternoon came in order to help organize for her and her party's departure. Lyra was beginning to worry for Jaime, he had not slept in two days, and it was beginning to show; which was why she implored him to come to bed tonight with her, especially since she and everyone else in her party going to the Trident were to depart tomorrow morning.

Due to the fact that almost everything she owned was now packed away in trunks, Joyce and Ashara had difficulty helping her ready for bed. Lyra had so much on her mind that she had forgotten to leave her brushes out. Thankfully though, she had remembered to put them in the trunk full of clothes and items she thought that she would need on her way to her new home. Joyce was horrified to see Lyra's warrior garb and sword packed in that trunk; Ashara, on the other hand, was quite amused.

"Though the war is mostly over and we are traveling through the lands controlled by our allies, there's still a chance that we could encounter enemy forces," Lyra had explained to her reluctant Lannister handmaiden.

 _My lady! What would your husband think?_ Joyce had asked, confounded.

 _Jaime has known about my sword and my skills since the first week of our marriage. He finds it to be quite amusing_ , was what Lyra had nonchalantly told Joyce. She nearly burst out laughing when the other woman looked as if she were about to faint at this news, it probably would have been the daintiest and most lady-like faint Lyra had ever seen. Which is why Lyra decided against also telling Joyce about how Jaime indirectly encourages her to keep up her skills.

After Joyce came back with the sleeping drought, the three women had a glass of Dream Wine before Lyra dismissed her handmaidens for the night and told them to make sure to get plenty of rest. After the two other women left, Lyra went to the trunk and got out Night's Queen. Moving the chairs and the sofa back against the walls of the room, she began to practice. Since she had nobody to practice her sword play with, Lyra instead focused on her technique. She had been doing this almost everyday after she recovered enough from her poisoning; and though she was working up a sweat, even now, she was pleased that her strength and skills were coming back to her quite quickly.

Lyra felt as if someone were watching her from behind, and without thinking, her warrior's intuition kicked in. Turning around quickly, and unexpectedly, she found herself aiming the sword at her own lord husband.

"Stop! I surrender!" Jaime mocked at his lady wife, laughing in good nature.

"Jaime!" Lyra was horrified and embarrassed to find herself aiming her own sword at her husband, intending to strike. "You really shouldn't sneak up on me when I'm doing this!" She scolded him as she put away Night's Queen.

"True," he admitted to his wife, who was sweating in her bed clothes, which he was shocked to see. Jaime and Lyra had always either slept naked or she wore her small clothes to bed if she could make it to her clothes after sex. To be honest, Jaime was surprised to learn that she had any bed clothes at all. "However, last I checked, ladies weren't supposed to practice swordplay," he teased.

"You must not know many Dornish ladies then," Lyra laughed. "Besides, if I'm going to the Rock without you, then I need to be up to par again," she added seriously. She knew that they would be headed through "friendly territory", but Lyra would rather have Night's Queen and not need it, than to not have it and need it.

"Speaking of which," Jaime pulled a long, thin gold bar out of his pocket, along with a scroll he had written earlier with the crimson Lannister seal on it. "I believe that my father meant to give this to you before his untimely death," Jaime said, handing the gold bar to Lyra.

Taking the gold bar from Jaime, Lyra examined it curiously before realizing what it was. "Lord Tywin wanted me to have a Lannister seal?" She was genuinely surprised at this; she didn't know that Lord Tywin trusted her that much.

"Yes, well, you _are_ a Lannister as far as my father was concerned. And you _were_ the future Lady Lannister," Jaime said sadly; he missed his father. "I think that he was waiting for us to leave for the Rock to rule in his stead. This was probably a sort of gift to _officially_ welcome you into the family as the future Lady Lannister," he added.

Lyra didn't know what to say. All she could do was stare at the Lannister lion on the golden seal.

"I'm sure you know how to use it and when to use it," Jaime said to his puzzled wife. "I know that you didn't particularly care for my father Lyra, due to his part in the deaths of Princess Elia and her children; _but_ I _also_ know that you two, begrudgingly, held each other in high regard and saw each other as family."

All of what Jaime had told Lyra, she knew to be true; she had a complicated relationship with her father-in-law. Seeing her husband saddened by his father's recent death at the hands of a brother he had freed, Lyra assured him; "It's true that despised Lord Tywin for having my aunt and cousins killed when he sacked King's Landing, but you are also right. I respected the fact that your lord father lived up to his reputation, and despite everything, he _was_ my father-in-law and I respected him as such."

Jaime looked down, contemplating, when he felt Lyra's arms wrap around him.

"I am so sorry about your father, Jaime," she whispered, while comfortingly rubbing his back. He brought his arms around her and leaned his head down to nuzzle his face into her neck, breathing in her warm, sweet scent. "I didn't know your father that well, but for what it's worth, I think he was very proud of you, and he would be proud to see how you've handled being Lord Lannister so far," she added, stroking Jaime's hair.

Kissing his wife up her neck to her jaw, Jaime pulled away from Lyra's embrace before tilting her head up and kissing her. Breaking their kiss, Jaime traced his wife's face with his good hand. Feeling her high cheekbones, which had become pronounced due to her weight loss, her swollen lips, and her long narrow jaw, he thought she was beautiful the first time he saw her, but now it seemed that she was becoming more beautiful to him everyday. He then found his hand unlacing the front of her bed clothes before pulling them down, completely exposing Lyra.

Lyra felt her nipples harden as her hot skin was suddenly exposed to the cold air. She gasped when Jaime's cold fingers touched her nipple before tracing the curves of her body. Feeling arousal pool between her legs, she cradled Jaime's face in her hands before pushing her toes up so she could get tall enough to kiss him.

Lifting Lyra up and wrapping her legs around his waist as they passionately kissed, Jaime put the scroll down on a table before carrying his wife to their bed. He needed to tell her what was in the scroll and more, but that could wait until morning. For now, he was going to make love to his wife.

* * *

 _Holding a candelabra, Lyra found herself walking through the dark hallways of the Red Keep._

 _Suddenly, she heard the caw of a raven. Looking around in the darkness, she saw the raven fly past her in the moonlight._

 _Follow me, it said._

 _Lyra followed the raven through the dark hallways with only moonlight and the candelabra to light her way. The raven would stop periodically and wait for her to catch up to it, each time doing so, it would repeat itself. "Follow me."_

 _It felt like she was following this raven for a long time, and Lyra was beginning to wonder if she was simply walking in circles. Then, the raven suddenly flew in front of a large door. Flapping its wings to keep it in flight at the door, it said, "Open", before landing on a pot atop a pedestal next to the door._

 _Walking up to the door, Lyra looked at the raven with uncertainty._

 _"Open," it repeated; staring back at her._

 _Setting the candelabra down, Lyra grabbed the handle of the heavy door and cautiously pushed it open. She saw nothing but darkness. Lyra nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt the raven fly past her and into the darkness before her._

 _Picking up the candelabra, Lyra held it out in front of her. There were stairs leading down to the bowels of the Red Keep._

 _"Follow me," the raven's voice echoed eerily._

 _Cautiously, Lyra descended the stairs. When she got to the bottom, she held the candelabra out in front of her. It appeared that she was in the part of the castle where most of the dragon skulls were stored: she was in the storage room._

 _"Find the sword," the raven said._

 _Hearing wings flapping past her, Lyra turned around and saw that it had landed on one of the dragon skulls. Walking closer to the raven, the light from her candelabra illuminated it. Lyra gasped in horror; the raven had three eyes._

 _"Find the sword!"_

 _Lyra shrieked and fell backwards in fear. She felt terror grip her as the candles must have gone out due to her fall._

 _"Find the sword!"_

Lyra shot up from bed, naked and sweating. Though it was just a nightmare, she was relieved to find herself in her's and Jaime's room, lit soft and soothingly by a few candles in the sitting area.

Laying back down, Lyra tried to slow her racing heart.

 _Such a realistic and vivid dream!_

It was time for her to get out of this terrible place.

* * *

Ser Addam and Ser Bronn rode behind Lyra and Jaime's horses at a respectful distance. Jaime was on his white stallion, Honor, and Lyra was riding the same sand steed she'd rode on her way to King's Landing from Dorne, Brightsun. Giving them some degree of privacy as they spoke of the contents in the scroll that Jaime had handed her that morning. Apparently, Ser Addam was to keep the 2,000 soldier and 150 knight army organized and disciplined as Lyra and her small Lannister host marched to the Trident; however, in Jaime's absence, Lyra was ultimately in charge of and leading the army with Ser Addam as her adviser and second-in-command. Jaime and Addam, both, agreed that leaving Lady Lannister ultimately in charge of the army headed back to the Trident would be the safest.

As they reached the Lannister men outside of the gates, Jaime and Lyra dismounted. Handing her the scroll, he told her, "Everything I've just told you is in this scroll. So if anyone should be unfortunate enough to give you any trouble, they will know that you are leading by _my_ command."

Taking the scroll from her husband, Lyra nodded sadly and put it in one of the pockets of her riding dress. She scolded herself as she felt her eyes watering up at the fact that she and Jaime were parting ways, even if only for a little while. It was a beautiful day and Lyra didn't want to smudge the eyeliner that would help protect her dark eyes from the sun's rays.

Seeing his wife saddened by their temporary departure, Jaime pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He heard Bronn mutter _Newly weds_ to himself in the background.

"I promise that as soon as I'm done here, I will join you," Jaime said as he wiped a small tear from Lyra's cheek. "It's only for a little bit," he assured her.

Mustering up a smile, Lyra told him, " _Please_ take care of yourself, Jaime." She pushed his growing golden hair from his face. "I worry about you."

"I promise," he assured his wife.

" _Even_ if you have to ask Pycelle for a drought, please do it and ignore your pride. For my peace of mind, at least? I know that you haven't been sleeping well, and _everybody_ understands why. You have nothing to prove."

"I will," Jaime promised. As much as he wanted to spend more time with Lyra before she left, he let her sleep in due to her lack of sleep caused by her nightmare, he also wanted her to make haste in getting to the Rock, where she'd be safest. "You need to get going if you want to reach Maidenpool by nightfall." He kissed his wife one last time before calling for Ser Addam to escort her to the front of the Lannister host.

Getting back on Brightsun, the copper haired knight rode up next to Lyra.

"Lady Lannister," Ser Addam addressed her as they rode up to the front together.

Looking behind her one last time, Jaime smiled sadly at Lyra. A smile which she returned in kind; it hurt her heart to be leaving her husband, she felt so alone...

As they rode to the front, everyone stood at attention as Lyra passed them. Arriving to the front of the Lannister host, Lyra looked at the vast horizon of the King's Road. After waiting a while, Lyra turned to Ser Addam, "Why is nobody moving?"

"They're waiting for you to lead them. _You_ are in charge of these men," the knight whispered in response.

Sure enough, a few moments after Lyra kicked Brightsun forward, she heard the clanking of the men marching behind her.

Jaime and Bronn stayed behind until they could no longer see Lyra.

Riding back to the Red Keep, Jaime was quiet. He already had a lot on his mind, and having to have Lyra depart for the Rock without him added to that stress.

"Try not to worry 'bout her," Bronn assured Jaime. "Your lady wife is one tough she-wolf. If anything, you should be more concerned 'bout her being too hard on your men."

Though Jaime was still concerned for Lyra, he couldn't help but to agree with Bronn.

* * *

Arriving at the Maidenpool just before sunset, Lord Mooton invited Lyra and Ser Addam into the castle to eat and sleep for the night, while the Lannister soldiers camped just outside. He also offered to provide her army with as much food as he could spare, which was not much. So, instead, Lyra told the men to hunt for their supper, which Lord Mooton agreed to. Initially, Lyra thought Lord Mooton had offered all of this out of kindness, but after being in the man's presence for a while, she began to realize that this was all because he had no balls...Randyll Tarly had apparently freed him, dealt out the necessary punishments and executions himself, and then put Lord Mooton back into power not too long ago. Lyra figured that Mooton's generosity was influenced more by fear of the Lannister army Lyra was currently stopping on his lands for the night.

In the room she was given for the night, changing out of her riding clothes and into something clean and warm, Lyra then went to the dinning hall to sup with Lord Mooton and his family. As everyone began eating the fish and potatoes, the conversation at the table naturally turned towards the war. Lyra tuned out Lord Mooton for the most part. She'd heard that he had coward behind his walls for the most part during the War of the Five Kings, not only that but his daughter, Eleanor Mooton, came betrothed to the heir of Randyll Tarly, the same man who jailed and then released Lord Mooton during the war. Lyra wasn't interested in hearing the exaggerated and likely false tales of such a man, but he was her host, so she politely nodded and asked appropriate questions to make it seem as if she was interested. However, one thing _did_ catch her ear; Harrion Karstark, the true lord of Karhold, was Lord Mooton's prisoner. Lord Mooton began to brag about how he had heard of how big and fierce and frightening Harrion Karstark was, but now that the man is his prisoner, he never so much as even hears a word from the Karstark.

After everyone had supped, Lyra went to her room to bathe the grime from her body and to relax her aching muscles from such a long ride. As Lyra was enjoying the warmth of the bath, Ashara knocked on her door. Permitting the Dornish-woman to enter, she told Lyra that the men had captured two scouts who claim to know Jaime. Getting out of the bath, Ashara got Lyra a dressing gown and a robe.

Walking down the hallways of the castle, Ashara led Lyra to a room where Ser Addam was holding the two scouts for questioning.

"Lady Lannister," Ser Addam greeted Lyra, "the men found these two skulking around camp. They claim to be affiliated with Lord Jaime."

Looking behind Ser Addam, Lyra saw the two scouts, a big woman who was taller than Jaime, with big blue eyes and white blonde hair, and a dark haired lad wearing a red jacket. Lyra recognized Brienne of Tarth and Podrik Payne. After dismissing everyone except for Ser Addam, Lyra told him to untie them.

"Thank you my lady," Brienne thanked Lyra for setting them free.

"Lady Brienne," Lyra acknowledged, smiling "you are always welcome considering the fact that my husband probably wouldn't have made it back to King's Landing alive without you."

"That's _Lady Lannister_ ," Ser Addam scolded Brienne and Pod.

"Ser Addam, they are friends of Jaime, there's no need for formalities," Lyra told him gently but firm. Turning to Brienne, she asked the other woman, "You're an awfully long way from home. Why are you in Maidenpool?"

Brienne looked Lyra dead in the eye with her reply; "It's about your cousin, I fear that she may be in danger."

"Which one?" Lyra asked, urgently.

Seeing Brienne falter with her answer, looking at Ser Addam, Lyra asked him to give them privacy. Assuring the loyal knight that Brienne and Pod would never harm her, Ser Addam reluctantly left them to speak privately.

Lowering her voice just above a whisper, Brienne revealed to Lyra; "Baelish has Sansa and he is taking her North."

The hairs on the back of Lyra's neck went up. If Baelish had Sansa, then Lyra's cousin was definitely in danger. "How do you know this? And why did you come here?! She's an enemy of Cersei!"

"I saw Baelish headed to The Neck with Sansa in tow. Ser Jaime swore an oath to Lady Catlin that he would find her daughters and send them home. When he married you and lost his sword hand, he was prevented from fulfilling this oath. So he gave me his valeryin steel sword, Oathkeeper, and charged me with this task."

"That still doesn't explain _why_ you came to this camp!"

"When I heard of Lord Tywin's death and that a Lannister host was headed to the Trident, I backtracked for help. Lysa Arryn is dead, and you are now Sansa's only living relative who is _able_ to help her. I knew that you'd be here, and I was hoping that you would give us aid to help your cousin"

Baelish was married to Lysa last Lyra checked, and now the Lady of the Vale was dead around the same time Littlefinger was taking Sansa North. But why would he take her North? Wait! Before she left King's Landing, Lyra had overheard Pycelle talking to Ser Kevan of his disgust for a bastard son being legitimized and becoming the heir to the new Warden of the North.

"Who is the current Warden of the North?" Lyra quietly asked Brienne.

"Roose Bolton, my lady," Brienne answered gravely.

Lyra wasn't sure which it would be, Roose or his newly legitimized son, but she had a feeling that Baelish was going to use Sansa as a pawn and marry her off to one of them. Considering that the Boltons are the house who betrayed and killed Robb and Catlin Stark, along with Robb's pregnant wife, to become Warden of the North until Tyrion and Sansa had a son, Lyra had a bad feeling about Sansa's situation with Baelish.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra makes a decision.**


	22. Chapter 22: Decisions, Decisions

**Chapter 22: Decisions, Decisions**

At dawn, Brienne and Podrick rode at the front of the Lannister host with Lyra, who had Ser Addam ride too far behind her to hear her speaking to Brienne. Lyra felt guilty about doing this to Jaime's childhood friend, but she simply wasn't yet sure if she could trust the Lannister knight.

"What makes you so sure that I can help?" Lyra asked the other woman. The Lannister host would be arriving at the Trident today and Brienne and Pod had agreed to travel with her there before departing to the North.

"I was hoping that you might be able to send forces to help us take Sansa back," Brienne responded. "She's rejected my offer to help. She's being cautious. Not trusting strangers, as she should be. However, _you_ are not a stranger-Pod! We're over here!" Brienne suddenly yelled to Pod. The poor lad was having trouble riding his horse.

"And then do what? You know that Cersei wants her dead right? She's probably safer with the Boltons than me actually."

Brienne looked at Lyra with horror. "You would leave Sansa with the Boltons?! The man who killed her mother and brother is the head of that house and the Warden of the North!"

"Keep your voice down!" Lyra hissed. She wasn't sure how loyal her own soldiers were to her. True, Lyra was married to their liege lord, but the Queen was born a Lannister. If her own army found out that Lyra was going against the Crown by helping Sansa Stark, she wasn't completely sure of their reactions. Would they be loyal to Lyra and Jaime? Or the Queen?

"Alright, I'll compromise with you," Lyra conceded, "I'm to stay at the Trident with the Lannister army until Jaime gets here with the rest of the Lannister army, which should be a little over a fortnight. If something happens to Sansa and she needs my help, I will help you take her to the Wall. She'll be safest there with Jon Snow."

* * *

They arrived at the Trident as evening began. Lyra urged Brienne and Pod to stay just for the night so that they could start fresh in the morning, but Brienne refused, saying that she needed to catch up with Sansa as soon as she could. So Lyra gave Brienne and Pod food rations and let their horses eat and drink before leaving.

As the soldiers set up Lyra's tent that she'd be staying in for the next fortnight or so, she decided to wander around camp. Lyra had never been in a war camp before and she was fascinated to see what it was like. Putting on a warm shawl, Lyra walked from the center of the camp, which was where her tent would be, to the edges. Each soldier and all of the knights stopped what they were doing and stood at attention as she walked by them. She knew that once she became Lady Lannister, her life would change, but she didn't expect anything like this. The Lannister knights and soldiers, who Lyra had been weary of only a few days ago, practically treated her as if she were the Queen.

Lyra was looking at the ravens in the crates they'd brought to send messages when Joyce found her to let her know that her tent was ready. Following Joyce back to her tent, Lyra was surprised that her handmaidens managed to make it look so warm and inviting. Unpacking her trunk, Lyra pulled out Night's Queen and set it against the desk. Though they likely would not be seeing any combat, Lyra felt safer knowing that her sword was nearby if she needed it.

After supper, which was rabbit stew, Lyra dug out her Lannister seal from her pocket and began to write to Jaime.

 _To Lord Jaime Lannister,_

 _We have safely arrived at the Trident._

 _All is well and our journey went without issue._

 _Eager for you to join us._

 _your wife,_

 _Lady Lyra Lannister_

After signing the letter, Lyra used the Lannister seal on red wax and sent it to the ravens with Ashara. After reading for a while, Lyra began to feel bored and a little lonely. This was her first journey without any of her family or Jaime, and despite the fact that she was surrounded by people, she felt the dark feeling of sadness and loneliness creeping up on her. Leaving the tent, she decided to distract herself. Wandering about the camp, she spotted Ser Addam and a few soldiers, who appeared to be captains or knights, going into a large tent guarded by two red cloaks at the entrance.

"Lady Lannister!" Both red cloaks straightened up and stood at attention as Lyra approached them.

"I'd like to enter," Lyra said firmly. To be honest, she was actually quite unsure of herself and exactly how much power she had over these men, she was still stretching those legs. However, Prince Doran had always stressed to her the importance of _sounding_ like you're in charge if you want all of the power that comes with it.

The two soldiers looked at each other, unsure for a moment, before opening the tent flaps for Lyra to enter.

As soon as Lyra entered the tent and locked eyes with Ser Addam, who was sitting at a long table across from where she was standing, immediately stood.

"Lady Lannister." The knight greeted her.

Realizing that their lady was present, the other knights and captains followed Ser Addam's lead.

Lyra smiled and nodded her head at the men, who then sat back down, before asking, "What's this? Are you having a council without me?"

"War council, Lady Lannister," Ser Addam answered.

"A war council? Without _me_?" Lyra lightly scolded.

"I assure you Lady Lannister, if there is anything that you need to know, I shall make sure you know it. There's no need to trouble yourself with such matters."

"You most certainly will since I will be sitting on the war councils until Lord Lannister arrives with the rest of our army," Lyra stated firmly.

"My lady-" Ser Addam was about to argue with Lyra before she cut him off.

"I am Lady Lannister, am I not?"

"Yes my lady."

"And has Lord Lannister given me full command of this army?"

"Yes my lady."

"Well then, I believe that I should be sitting on these councils until my husband has arrived to take over his army again," Lyra said, trying to sound as if that settled the matter.

Ser Addam looked at her for a moment, unsure as to what he should do. He opened his mouth and looked like he was going to argue with Lyra, who was currently staring him down. The knight closed his mouth and motioned for the knight sitting across from him directly in front of Lyra to move. She sat down in the recently vacant chair across from Ser Addam as the cup bearer brought another chair and seated the knight next to her. After bringing the extra chair for Ser whatever his name was, the lad then got Lyra a glass and poured her wine.

Lyra tried to remain unfazed as everyone at the table could only stare in shock while she took a sip from the glass. She knew that women generally did not sit on war councils, especially ladies, but Lyra didn't completely trust her own men yet and she wanted to know exactly what was going on at all times.

Getting comfortable in her chair; "Well, continue." Lyra told the silent, staring men.

Clearing his throat, Ser Addam pulled out a map of the Riverlands and put carved lions on it, showing where the Lannister host was camped. The war council did not reveal much except for their plans for security and defense of the camp until Jaime arrived from King's Landing to take them to Riverrun. Upon finishing, Ser Addam asked Lyra if she had any closing remarks to her captains.

"We should have scouts and look outs facing the Twins as well," Lyra stated.

"Lord Frey is an ally. Lord Tywin made a deal with Lord Walder, giving him Riverrun. We have no reason to fear him," a captain piped up.

"Lord _Tywin_ made that deal with Walder Frey. Since then, the head of House Lannister has changed and Walder has proven himself to be a treacherous man. Though he is _now_ House Lannister's ally, don't forget that he ended the Stark campaign under _guest rights_. We should still be careful," Lyra said. It wasn't an argument; it was a statement.

Turning to one of the captains at the table, Ser Addam told him to have his men get on that task. When there was nothing else, Ser Adam had Lyra dismiss everyone.

After everyone left the tent, Lyra stayed behind, still drinking her wine, while Ser Adam finished with the maps and sat opposite her.

Considering her for a moment, Ser Adam finally spoke; "You did well for your first war council."

"You did as well. I'm sure that this is the first time you've ever had a lady sit on a war council with you."

Taking a deep breath, the knight cut to the quick, "Lady Lannister, may we be frank with one another?"

"Of course Addam," Lyra said lightly.

"You don't trust me, do you?" He asked seriously.

"What makes you say that?" Lyra asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"That woman and the lad from the other day, every time you spoke to them, you didn't want me near you so that I wouldn't overhear." His tone was slightly accusing.

Sighing, Lyra dismissed the cup bearer and poured herself more wine. "It's not that I don't trust you Ser. It's more like I don't know you enough to completely trust you," she admitted.

Lyra saw a little hurt flash across Addam'a face at this. "I'm one of your husband's oldest friends. He told me that the reason why he was sending me with you was because he completely trusts me."

"I know that," Lyra said soberly,"but that's the thing; you're one of my husband's oldest friends. Not mine. I barely know you."

"Officially, you are in command of these Lannister forces until Jaime says otherwise. So by all means, sit on war councils and command and oversee if you want, but I was sent here to ensure your safety. I cannot do my job if you hide potentially pertinent information from me."

Lyra considered her words carefully before responding; "That woman I spoke to was Brienne of Tarth, Jaime sent her on a mission, and she asked me if I could aid her. I cannot for the time being."

Ser Addam looked as if he was mulling over Lyra's words. To her relief, it looked as if the matter was settled at least, for the time being

"If you want for me to trust you completely, as Jaime does, then you can earn it," she offered. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her. Ser Addam was so serious that this looked quite funny on him. Lyra had to laugh a little. "I need someone to help me train. Who is in charge of training the soldiers?"

"There isn't anyone..." Addam told her cautiously.

"Well then, that makes things easy. I need you to help me train," Lyra said flatly.

Ser Addam stifled a laugh, "I'm afraid that I'm too busy for that Lady Lannister. Besides, you have an army; let your men do the fighting for you."

"Do you remember the Sack of King's Landing Ser Addam," Lyra asked irritably.

"Yes, but-"

"Then you also remember that the Gold Cloaks and the King's Guard were supposed to protect Princess Elia and my cousins; yet they died anyways," Lyra felt the heat of anger rising at the mere mentioning of it.

There was only silence as the two stared at each other.

"I do _not_ intend to meet the same fate as my relatives without at least giving the bastards quite the fight. And if you do not intend to train me, then I _will_ find someone else who will. This camp has plenty of seasoned soldiers, of whom I can spar with, even if it's only at the right price. However, these other men aren't charged with my safety by Lord Lannister." It was a veiled threat, and Lyra hated those, but she needed help. "If I happened to get seriously injured whilst sparring with the other men, I don't believe that Jaime would be so trusting of you anymore. Especially when I tell him that I asked you first, but you declined." Lyra was bluffing. She just hoped that Addam wouldn't call her on her bluff.

She saw Ser Addam chew his cheek as he contemplated his decision. Sighing irritably, he asked her, "Does Lord Lannister know about the fact that you still train?"

"Yes. In fact, he encourages it," Lyra smiled.

"Tomorrow morning. We start tomorrow morning, next to the river bank, but only for an hour. I _do_ have other duties," he grumbled out as politely as he could.

Heart full of joy at the small victory that was this evening, Lyra got up to leave. "Thank you Ser Addam," she said genuinely.

* * *

"You're too aggressive. I'm not one of your cousins; you can't overpower me. You need to use speed and agility to your advantage." Picking up the training sword he'd just knocked out of her hand, Ser Addam threw it back to Lyra.

Catching the sword, she got into her stance, as did Ser Addam. Circling each other for a while, he was the first to strike. As Lyra parried his blows, she began looking for an opening. She found it and successfully landed a blow to his side.

Feeling winded, despite using training swords, Ser Addam got out of his stance. "Good. You're getting better." Feeling his bruised ribs, he added, "In fact, you're getting a lot better despite being only five days of training."

As the two took a break, Lyra asked if Addam had happened to get a raven from Jaime. She hadn't in a couple of days, and she was beginning to worry. Addam told her that he hadn't, but he assured Lyra that he would send a raven when he left King's Landing.

"Lady Lannister! Ser Addam!" A squire came running towards them. "There's a man from Dorne who claims to have been sent by Princess Arienne to give a message to Lady Lannister!"

Straightening up immediately, Lyra asked the lad where the man was being held before sprinting off towards the middle of the camp. Nearing Ashara's tent, she heard laughter from a man with a Dornish accent. Barging into the tent, Deziel Dalt's face fell to serious when he saw Lyra. It looked as if he and Ashara were taking tea together while he waited for Lyra to return to camp.

"Ser Dezial! What are you doing here?!" She asked worriedly. He was so far from home, and if he was seeking her out specifically, then something must have gone horribly wrong.

"Lady Lyra, may we speak privately?"

Walking to her tent with Dezial and Ashara, Lyra told the guards not to let anyone enter her tent. All three of them sitting down, Dezial began to tell Lyra his tale. Apparently, just after they arrived for Prince Oberyn's mourning period, the Sand Snakes, led by Ellaria, revolted in a fit of passion and took over Sunspear. The Dornishmen in Sunspear who were still loyal to Princess Arienne led her to the harbor and tried to take her to Lyra at the Trident, however, a storm had come unexpectedly and forced them North. Princess Arienne and a Dornish host were currently occupying the vacant Dreadfort, posing as Bolton soldiers.

Taking all of this in, Lyra asked fearfully," My mother...is she..."

Dezial looked sadly at her, "I do not know if she is alive or dead Lady Lyra. I only know that Princess Arienne is alive and she needs your help. People from Dorne who supported your cousin were still arriving everyday the last time I saw the Dreadfort, but that was three days ago."

"My word!" Ashara gasped at this. From the Dreadfort to the Trident in only three days was no easy task. The poor knight must have been ridding day and night, but Lyra had to hand it to Princess Arienne; she could make men do some insane things for her, and Dezial had once courted her. She supposed that despite her cousin's rejection, the Dornish knight was probably still smitten with the Princess of Dorne.

"Did she send you with anything?" Before Lyra did anything, she wanted to make sure that it was all true. At this, Dezial pulled out a scroll with the official Martell seal, unbroken. Opening the scroll, sure enough, it was a document explaining everything Lyra had just been told, urging her to come to the Dreadfort, and signed by Arienne. Lyra would recognize her cousin's writing anywhere.

"Bastards taking over Sunspear? Why would they back the Sand Snakes over Princess Arienne?" Lyra asked herself.

Making up her mind, Lyra began to pack for the journey to the Dreadfort. Asking Dezial if he could withstand another day's ride, his only reply was that he'd need a fresh horse.

Taking only her furs, her sword, and her Lannister seal, she asked one of the squires watching over the horses to ready Brightsun. Lyra was already wearing her armor and the rest of her garb, she'd travel in that. Turning around to find Ser Addam, she saw him walking towards her.

"I'm going to the Dreadfort. I need only two hundred men. I'm sorry that I have to do this to Jaime, but I have to help Arienne," Lyra told him breathily.

"Lady Lannister, calm down," Addam told her. "We need to wait for Lord Lannister, and I cannot let you go or provide you the men in good conscience," he said the latter, grabbing her arm.

Arienne needed her help immediately, the Dornish didn't know how to survive in the North, and she likely would not be able to fight her way down to the neck because of the Bolton's army. Having had enough, Lyra jerked her arm away; "Addam, this is _not_ up for debate. You have one of two choices: come with me and help protect me; or stay here and explain to Jaime why you allowed me to leave for the Dreadfort without proper escort or army." Lyra crossed her arms, impatiently awaiting a response.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra heads to the Dreadfort, Jaime learns that his wife has left the Trident, and Arienne adjusts to her new reality.**


	23. Chapter 23: The North

**Author's Note: Sorry! I changed my mind; Jaime will not be finding out about Lyra leaving the Trident for another chapter or two.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 23: The North**

 _You are weak, and your house has become weak. Ellaria said to Doran, twisting the knife in his chest. Princess Arienne could only look on in horror as her father was stabbed to death by a woman who they had all come to consider family._

 _Quickly running away, she saw the guards coming to her_ _rescue._

 _Thank the Gods! I'm saved! Arienne thought as she men came closer, however, instead of saving her. One man reared back and impaled her with his sword._

 _Falling to the ground as her father had, Arienne could only gasp, "Why?"_

 _Trying to crawl away, she couldn't stand due to the searing pain in her gut, a boot stepped harshly on her hand. Looking up, Arienne was face to face with Obara Sand._

 _"Obara, beloved cousin, help me! Please!" Arienne begged her cousin weakly._

 _"Elia Martell died at the hands of the Lannisters, and Doran refused to go to war. My father, your uncle, was murdered by the Lannisters, and neither you nor Doran want to go to war. Instead, you take their Princess to wed Trystane, side with the Crown, and force Lyra_

Heart pounding, Princess Arienne awoke to sunlight shinning in her face. Her belly still hurting, and thinking she had actually been stabbed due to her still semi-dreaming state, she quickly pulled the furs down to look at the source of pain. She was relieved to find the it was only her belt buckle causing the pain.

Princess Arienne had only barely escaped with her life, but it still hurt to know that she had to be smuggled out of her own homeland, the homeland she was to rule after her father. Princess Meria and Trystane had not been so lucky though...

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Arienne answered as she tried to straighten her tangled hair and disheveled dress out.

Her handmaiden, Tia, came in.

"Princess," the stoney Dornish-woman began, bowing to her, "Myrcella is asking if she can come see you." She looked sadly, "She feels very alone, and she is frightened...maybe if you could just break your fast with her-"

"No!" Arienne snapped. " _I do not wish to see **her**!"_ It came out harsher than Arienne had intended, but she was _not_ in the mood to see the welp of the _bitch_ responsible for all of this.

Tia, bowed at her princess before going to the kitchens to see if she could find some food for Arienne to break her fast.

After her new handmaiden left, Arienne put her hands into her face and softly cried. Everyone was gone in a flash before her eyes and there was nothing she could do. The loyalists, which is what the Dornish responsible for taking what was left of House Martell out of Dorne were calling themselves, had wisked Arienne and Trystane out of Dorne as soon as her aunt, Princess Meria witnessed Ellaria murder Prince Doran and Areo Hotah. Running as fast as she could to the boats with Trystane and Myrcella, the rebels followed them, led by Obara Sand.

 _Sister! My Love! Both of you go! I will help handle them!_

As the ship left the harbor, Arienne and Myrcella could only watch in horror as the rebels killed the remaining loyalists on the dock and Obara thrusted her spear through her brother's head. Thank the Gods Meria managed to get out of there alive, taking Tyene hostage, and warned the loyalists to get Arienne and Trystane out alive. However...Meria had been struck by Obara in the process.

Arienne got out of the Lord's bed and headed to her aunt Meria's room. The guards let the Princess of Dorne pass with ease. Entering the room, it was dark; the windows were shut and there was no light, save for the light coming from the few candles lit. Sunlight had become too much for Meria to bear anymore.

"Lyra?" Meria, gasped, dehydrated and delirious.

"No aunt...it's me. Arienne," she told her dying aunt, holding her hand as she did so.

"Oh...I was hoping to see her. Just one last time...before going to see my brothers and sister," Meria said sadly before closing her eyes.

Turning to the maester of the Dreadfort, who the Martell forces had locked in with Meria since they'd arrived, Arienne asked him,"Is there nothing you can do?"

"I'm terribly sorry Princess. I can't save her. Perhaps if she had come to me sooner, I could have adequately bled the poison out...but I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do, except to make her comfortable." The maester told her hesitantly, in fear that the Dornishmen who'd invaded the castle only a fortnight ago would have him killed as they had to all of the Boltons and their remaining household at the Dreadfort.

"Escort him to his stores so that he may get what he needs," she told the guard in the room. Arienne knew that the excessive amount of caution she was using was bordering ridiculous, but she didn't know who to trust anymore. She thought she could trust Oberyn's family, who had become an unofficial part of the Martell family, and she thought that she could trust the guards in Sunspear. They'd all proven to be deadly treacherous though...no, she couldn't be too careful anymore; which is why she sent Ser Dezial, and only him, to travel to her cousin, Lyra Lannister, at a breakneck pace and ask her for aid. Arienne wasn't sure how much aid Lyra would be able to provide her; women had less rights and power outside of Dorne, but Arienne didn't know who else to ask for help. She was stuck in the North, which she soon discovered to be enemy territory to House Martell, and she only had around 1,000 soldiers and 500 knights to help her. If the Boltons found out that they had taken over the Dreadfort, Arienne didn't believe that they wouldn't survive for long.

* * *

It had taken a couple of days, but Lyra and her party had just arrived at the neck. Ser Addam and Ser Dezial believed that they should arrive at the Dreadfort in only a couple of more days. It had taken much persuasion and stubborn, unrelenting resolve that she _would_ be heading to the Dreadfort whether Ser Addam liked it or not, even if she had to sneak out of the camp; but the knight eventually yielded to accompanying her to the Dreadfort on the condition that she write to Jaime and tell him what was going on. Lyra didn't mind this condition; she was going to write to him about it anyways. However, she did not mention where they were going or why. She was afraid of Cersei intercepting it and trying to use it to put a bounty on Lyra's head as a traitor. The bitch Queen would probably use it as "proof" that Lyra was treasonously helping Sansa, when she was actually going North to help Arienne, who's House was currently fighting for the Crown as far as they probably knew at the Capitol.

Due to these reasons, Lyra had to think about how she could carefully word the letter before she wrote and sent it.

 _Lord Jaime Lannister,_

 _We had to redirect to the Twins._

 _We will meet you there._

 _I'm sorry._

 _your loving wife,_

 _Lady Lyra Lannister_

Lyra had personally gone to the ravens to have it sent to the Capitol. She only hoped that Jaime hadn't left yet since she had yet to receive a raven by the time she'd written the letter. Despite not _technically_ lying to Jaime, Lyra felt guilty; leaving out pertinent information and only providing her lord husband a vague idea of what she was doing and where she was going, was _still_ lying.

After she sent the letter, Lyra ordered the camp to move to the Twins and sent a letter to Lord Walder Frey, telling him that she had authorized the army to move camp due to difficulties they were having at the Trident. She had also reassured him that as soon as Lord Lannister arrived, the Lannisters would begin helping him take Riverrun. After that, Lyra had Ser Addam choose someone to be in charge of the army while they were gone and to pick his best 200 soldiers. He wanted to take more, but more soldiers would only slow their journey and cost them stealth.

Before afternoon, Lyra, Ser Addam and Ser Dezial were all riding at a quick pace with 200 of the best of the Lannister cavalry. Lyra knew that Jaime was going to be monumentally pissed with her when she returned, but saving the last of her family was worth whatever wrath would be waiting for her.

"Lyra, it's going to be evening soon," Ser Addam rode up to her. Slowing down to a walk, he continued, "you and Ser Dezial may be riding Sand Steeds, but the rest of us are not. We need to stop and let our men and our horses rest."

As much as Lyra wanted to continue (she wanted to pass Moat Cailin before tomorrow), she knew that Ser Addam was right. She commanded that her men stop for the night and the squires began to build fires and water and feed the horses. When Brightsun was returned to her, she tied him off and took his saddle off. Using the saddle and the cloth beneath it as a pillow, Lyra used her heavy fur cloak as a blanket and snuggled near the fire to sleep for the night.

Awaking at dawn, Lyra got up with her neck hurting. In fact, her entire body hurt. Standing up and putting the cloak back on, she felt her stomach churning, she quickly ran into the woods to vomit. After vomiting up the rabbit she'd had for supper the previous night, Lyra felt a tap on her shoulder. One of the squires handed her a flask of wine.

"Are you alright Lady Lannister?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine," Lyra told him. She usually felt sick the next day if she didn't sleep well and she had been sleeping very poorly for the past few days. Patting the lad on the back as they walked back to camp; "You're a good lad. What's your name?" She asked.

"Gerry Lannister, my lady. I squire for Ser Ty Lannister. We are distant cousins of Lord Lannister," Gerry responded brightly.

* * *

Sitting at his recently re-aquired desk, Grand Maester Pycelle looked at the newly arrived scroll from, presumably, Lady Lannister. Currently, he was thanking the Gods that he had decided to send a raven to Casterly Rock and summon Ser Kevan back to King's Landing. The maester was relieved when Kevan arrived and promptly took control of the small council and named himself as Hand of the King before promptly unseating and banishing Qyburn from the Small Council. The man was insane! And Cersei had quickly proven herself to be quite unhinged herself after Lord Tywin died; which Lord Jaime had done his best to curb until she'd forced him by royal order to go on a mission. Now, Cersei had gotten herself, Queen Margeary, and Ser Loras imprisoned by crazy religious fanatics, while young King Tommen suffered. Pycelle and Kevan both tried to get the young man to come out of his rooms, but he had stubbornly refused. Though Pycelle revered Ser Kevan, he was no Tywin Lannister; exasperated, the man had simply given up and tried to re-stabilize the Crown as best as he could.

Getting up, Pycelle made his way to the new Tower of the Hand, since Cersei had burned down the last one whilst madly trying to find her brother in a fit of rage. The only silver lining was that the new Tower of the Hand was closer to Pycelle. After being announced to Ser Kevan, Pycelle entered and handed him the scroll.

"I believe that this is from Lady Lannister. I don't think she knows that Lord Lannister is gone for the time being," Pycelle told the current Hand.

Looking at the unbroken Lannister seal for a moment, Ser Kevan decided to open it.

 _If it's important, I'm sure that Jaime will want me to know, but if it's unimportant, then he won't mind that I've read it._

Reading the scroll, Ser Kevan was glad that he had decided to open it; Lady Lannister had taken the army to the Twins. But why? Was she ill? Did she need help or a maester? Maybe she was pregnant again. Kevan didn't know, but he needed to find out.

"I'm going to send a rider to the Twins to report back to me as to why Lady Lannister has chosen to move her army there, as a precaution." Kevan didn't want to be too careful. Though he felt that Pycelle no longer felt beholden to Cersei, and now instead to House Lannister, thus Jaime and Kevan, he didn't want to risk any information in this letter getting back to Cersei. The woman was mad these days and there was no telling how far out of context she would take Lyra's letter to Jaime. As soon as he dismissed Pycelle, he burned it.

* * *

"It's getting close to evening Lady Lannister, we ought to think about where to stop in the next couple of hours," Ser Addam advised Lyra. They had managed to sneak past Moat Cailin and White Harbor undetected by refusing to take the roads, however, there was something else they needed to worry about: rebel forces and outlaws.

"Once we get closer to the hills near Hornwood, we'll stop." Lyra assured the knight. They were riding hard and had made good distance today.

"Forest would be safer m'la-gah!" The knight speaking was just shot through his neck with an arrow.

 _Shit!_ Right now it was only Lyra, Ser Addam, Ser Dezial, and five other knights traveling near enough to help them. The others were too far behind to help.

As men began to come out of hiding behind the trees, Lyra counted fifteen of them.

Kicking Brightsun, and spring him forward, she drew out Night's Queen and struck the first man stupid enough to come out in front of her. Taking his head off, she felt shock go up her arm from the force of the blow she'd just delivered. She was unhorsed though when the second man parried her strike. Getting thrown onto her back, she parried the blow meant to take her head so quickly it had to have been instinctual. Kicking the man back, Lyra quickly got to her feet as he stumbled. Ducking another blow aimed at her head, she then shoved her sword into his jaw, coming out of his head. Seeing a third man coming towards her, she used the man she'd just dispatched as a shield. The third man's sword getting stuck on the other man, but cutting Lyra's left thigh, she yelped in pain and surprise. Blood and adrenaline pumping madly, she shoved her human shield into the third man, knocking him over and pinning him to the ground. Without thinking, Lyra pulled out her dagger and quickly cut the man's throat before jerking Night's Queen out of one of the men and parrying the fourth man planning to cut her from behind. Locking swords, Lyra's arms were beginning to tire; she was going to lose.

 _I'm not one of your cousins; you can't overpower me._

Remembering Ser Addam's advice, Lyra quickly feigned a strike with her dagger in her other hand. As the man instinctively pulled back to avoid her dagger, Lyra had him on the defense. Locking swords again, Lyra broke it using her dagger before quickly striking him with it in the throat. Hearing the tearing of flesh behind her, Lyra quickly turned around to see Ser Addam dispatch the last of the men.

"Are you alright Lady Lannister," he asked, worried.

Breathing heavily, "Yes, I'm fine. Go help the others." Lyra was shaking, but not from fear, she was feeling far from it; instead, she'd never felt more alive in her life.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra arrives to the Dreadfort and Jaime's ship turns back to King's Landing.**


	24. Chapter 24: The Dreadfort

**Author's Note: Introducing the Boltons! Hope my characterization is right; I'm under the impression that Roose is somewhat horrified with Ramsey, but he simply puts up with it and is mostly indifference to his son's cruelty unless it results in a** **disaster for the house.**

 **On with the show ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 24: The Dreadfort**

Roose Bolton arose at dawn as he usually did. Dressing for breakfast, he looked over at his sleeping, round little wife, Walda, who he'd unexpectedly grown fond of. Her pregnancy would probably keep her sleepy and hungry until the babe is born, which Roose counted as both a blessing and a curse. It would be a blessing because it would give him a true born heir, that is, if Ramsey doesn't kill this one too; it was a curse because it created the problem that is the line of succession for Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell.

Roose had not yet told Ramsey, but if he doesn't play his "games" with Sansa Stark to much and proves to Roose that he did _not_ make a mistake by legitimizing him, then Roose will pass Winterfell to Ramsey and the Dreadfort to his first born son with Walda. One reason why Roose was favoring Ramsey over a son with Walda as heir to Winterfell was simply because Roose would likely never see his son with Walda reach manhood. Therefore, Roose would not have a lot of time to teach him how to rule and to be a Bolton. He also didn't want Walda's family, House Frey, to have so much influence over the North through his son with Walda; they had already proven themselves to be power hungry and treacherous. Besides, should Roose have a son with Walda, he's hoping that by making Ramsey heir to Winterfell, his "natural" son would be less likely to murder his half brother. Not to mention the Sansa Stark factor; when Ramsey gets a son on her and he does' inherit Winterfell, what would be the use of all of the trouble Roose went through to obtain her?

Heading down to the main dinning hall, Roose looked out a chilly window to admire the castle he was currently residing in as he rebuilt it: Winterfell. Rebuilding the old fortress was going faster than he had anticipated, but he was sure that it was mostly due to the builders wanting to finish their work before Winter.

Entering the main dinning hall, Roose sat with Ramsey, with Theon shaking at the wall behind him. Roose understood and perhaps even begrudgingly respected Ramsey's new "flaying" method, but Gods be good; sometimes Ramsey's "games" actually horrified Roose, who had himself flayed many a man, possibly more than Ramsey.

"Morning Father," the psychopath greeted Roose.

"Ramsey," Roose acknowledged.

Ramsey paused, that same pause he has before he does something demented; "Reek," he said without even looking at Greyjoy, "Don't be rude. Say hello to my father," Ramsey said stiffly.

Without lifting his head, Roose felt Greyjoy's eyes on him before the shaking young man said, "M-m-morning, L-lord Bolton."

Roose gave Ramsey a hard, cold look, what Ramsey was doing to Theon was unnecessarily cruel; but it wasn't actually much to Roose, so he usually ignored it and tried to pretend that Reek was not in his presence.

"You're up rather early," Roose addressed Ramsey, who was usually joining Roose to break his fast, not the other way around.

"So happy you noticed Father," Ramsey gave him a demented smile. "Some riders came last night reporting that a small group of around 200 red cloaks, being led by a woman, likely Lady Lannister, went past white harbor a couple of days ago. Apparently, they've helped a bit with our 'outlaw problem.'"

 _Interesting, why would the Lannisters be North without sending a raven? Do they know about Sansa Stark and are coming to see if it's true before sending an army to destroy us for treason?_ Roose mused to himself.

"What shall we do about them Father?" Ramsey asked hopefully.

 _We don't know for sure why they're here. For all we know, they could only be headed to the wall. Especially with so few riders. Didn't I once hear that Lady Lannister used to be known as Lyra Stark until she married Jaime Lannister?_

Making up his mind, Roose told Ramsey, "Have the men scout the Lannister party out before we do anything about their surprise visit. For all we know, they could be headed for the Wall; Lyra Lannister's cousin, Jon Snow lives there, and she could be riding to see him. But more importantly," Roose started, looking directly in Ramsey's eyes to make sure that his son listens carefully. "We _don't_ want to be causing unnecessary trouble. _We have_ committed treason by having Sansa Stark marry you, Ramsey. When you have done something that could upset the Crown, you _don't_ start drawing attention unless you're ready to face the Crown; which _we are not_."

Roose saw Ramsey's smile falter at this. "Laying low" was not Ramsey's strongest quality and he was probably hoping that Roose would command him to capture Lady Lannister; Roose's natural son much rather preferred to strike first and think later. Roose was having enough of hard time trying to get all of the Northern lords to bend the knee to him; and those who did, Roose knew that the moment a Stark came to reclaim Winterfell or the Crown came to destroy House Boltons, those treasonous lords would fight against House Bolton. Right now, they were in no position to challenge the Lannisters or the Crown, despite the fact that most of their forces are battle worn and exhausted.

* * *

By the time the Dreadfort came into view, Lyra thanked the Old Gods and the New. She was sore, she was tired, she was cold and her garb was quite dirty and tattered from traveling and meeting those outlaws.

"Let me go alone. I'll come back once everyone knows that you're coming with the Red Cloaks," Ser Dezial told Lyra and Ser Addam. When they both agreed that this would be best, Lyra and Addam sat on their horses, waiting as they saw the young knight ride to the Dreadfort. Waiting for the remaining Red Cloaks, Addam began admonishing Lyra for leading them this far into the North and her unauthorized use of the Lannister army.

"Doing _this_ without authorization borders on _treason_ , Lady Lannister," he said, worriedly.

Ah, so they were going back to _this_ issue.

"Lord Lannister gave me full authority over this Lannister army," Lyra argued back, _again_. This was the third time they'd had this argument since their journey North, and again, Lyra had to argue that she was well within her authorization; Jaime never explicitly ordered her not to leave the Trident, her cousin, an _ally_ of the Crown and House Lannister, needed her help, they were not there for Sansa Stark, and she, Lyra, was given full authority to use the army as she saw fit, which they had only taken 200 out of 2,000 North. They were _not_ committing treason, and if Lord Lannister got upset, Lyra assured Addam that _she_ would take the blame, telling him that she'd say that she "pulled rank" on him.

Both Lyra and Ser Addam fell silent after their short argument and waited. Feeling too chilled to the bone, Lyra took her hair down to help warm her neck, as well as ripping part of her torn tunic off and tying it around her throat like a scarf. Lyra knew how ridiculous she look, but Gods she was cold! No, the North was _never_ meant to be her home. She was, with great sadness, realizing as her and her party traveled North that she was probably never meant to hold Winterfell; that always belonged to Robb. This was Lyra's first time North without Robb, and without him, the place felt foreign and more like a wasteland. It was like she was an outsider in her own father's homeland.

After a time, Ser Dezial was seen riding back from the castle. It took some time for him to gallop the distance between the castle's entrance to the hill Lyra and her Red Cloaks were currently standing in wait. The young Dornish knight's tired horse struggled to get up the hill, but when he finally made it, Lyra was told that Princess Arienne would receive them herself and that she and her Red Cloaks would encounter no ill will among the Dornish loyalists while at the Dreadfort.

Galloping to the Dreadfort, Lyra's heart began to race at a maddening pace. _Please Mother, please be alive._ Was all she could think as they all followed Dezial to the ominous looking castle. The anxiety of not knowing who did and did not survive the uprising of the Sand Snakes hadn't hit Lyra until now due to her pre-occupation with simply trying to get to the Dreadfort alive and in one piece; but now, this anxiety seemed to kick in, hard.

* * *

Jaime and Bronn looked at each other silently as they waited in the small ship's hull. The ship was so small that the only cabin it had was for the captain; which he offered to Jaime, but Jaime had refused to accept. Instead, Jaime only wanted his secrecy and his silence after they docked.

Taking out an playing with his knife, Bronn suddenly threw it into a bag of grain, frustrated. "Why no Lannister sails?" he finally got out to Jaime, who explained to him that the ship was headed to Old Town, but that they would be covertly ending the journey early at Sunspear.

"You ever been to Dorne?" Bronn asked irritably.

Jaime sighed and told him no; though he _should_ have visited Dorne at least once since Dorne was his wife's homeland. However, Jaime had expected to stay in the King's guard for the rest of his life.

"I have. The Dornish are crazy; all they like to do is fuck n' fight, n' fight n' fuck," Bronn told him flatly.

 _So do you_ , Jaime thought while he looked for water. Taking a drink from the canteen, he mocked his companion: "You should be happy to go back then."

 _Lord Jaime_ , the captain's voice was heard above them.

"Lord Jaime," the captain came down to the hull, along with two wet and shivering Dornishmen. "We found some Dornishmen out at sea on a row boat. They would like to speak to you."

The two Dornishmen looked to only be fishermen. They had both been given blankets to dry themselves and to warm up from the cold sea water. Jaime looked at the captain, expectingly, who understood that Lord Lannister was asking him to leave. Saying something about having his men find some food and water for the Dornishmen, the captain went up back up the stairs.

"By all means, lads, please be seated," Bronn got up to stretch his legs, but mostly, it was for the Dornishmen to sit opposite Jaime and himself while they interrogated them.

Jaime asked the stranded Dornishmen to cut to the quick. "The Sand Snakes have rebelled and now control Dorne, my lord," one of them began, between a speaking voice and a whisper.

 _Myrcella_ _!_ Jaime closed his eyes at this. His daughter with Cersei was likely dead in that case; especially given that they had sent Cersei a gift with a golden snake holding Myrcella's Lannister Lion pendant in it's hissing fangs: it was a threat. Jaime felt guilt at this news, though he was never close with any of his children by Cersei, he was their father, even if it was only due to his seed; he _did_ feel some duty to help keep them safe, despite his love for Lyra, which is why he had agreed to go to Dorne and secretly bring Myrcella back to the Red Keep where she'd be safer with her mother. Despite Jaime's growing hate for Cersei ever since her attempt on Lyra's life, he still admired the lengths his sister would go for her children, who couldn't even even begin to know how much their mother loved them.

One of them came closer, as if to whisper something important, but secret to Jaime, who unconsciously leaned a little forward to listen. "Princess Arienne was whisked away with the help of Princess Meria," the Dornishman began whispering. "They headed for the Trident, looking for Lady Lannister and yourself, my lord, but they were caught in a storm that took them North. We were ordered by House Vaith, along with many other men, to secretly head to the Dreadfort in support of House Martell."

"Where's the other men?" Bronn asked the Dornishmen.

They briefly exchanged horrified glances before one responded, "Our ship was wreaked...as far as we know, we are the only survivors."

Quickly getting up, Jaime climbed the stairs in a hurry to find the captain. He needed to get him to turn the ship around and head back to King's Landing. If these men were right, then Jaime had a feeling that Lyra would head to the Dreadfort, in the North; very dangerous territory for a group of Red Cloaks despite the fact that the Lannisters and the Crown were backing House Boltons as Wardens of the North.

* * *

Lyra bolted the door behind her after she had screamed in horror and grief at the sight of her own mother's dead body. After that, the rest was a blur, but Lyra found herself on the floor, leaning against a wall after she could sob no more.

 _Mother...I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner._

The room was cold, they'd left the window open so that Princess Meria's body could be preserved longer from the freezing temperatures outside, but Lyra barely noticed how chilled her bones were. She was too numb with grief.

As soon as Lyra and Ser Addam and the remainder of the Red Cloaks arrived at the castle courtyard, Lyra knew something was wrong when she saw Princess Arienne's face. Her normally colorful older cousin was usually draped in bright colors with her eyes lined and even a colored powder on her eyelids; but when Lyra met her only moments ago in the courtyard of the castle the Dornish loyalists had currently taken over, Arienne was pale, had no eyeliner or power on, and dressed in dark colored furs. When Lyra asked about her mother, Arienne only said that she was sorry and how hard they had tried to save her, but that she had passed only yesterday in the early hours of the morning.

 _She fought the poison hard, Lyra. She knew that she would die, but she wanted to see you before she left to join her sister and brothers_ , Arienne told Lyra with silent tears streaming down her face.

Lyra didn't say anything, nor did she react at all, initially. It wasn't until Arienne and her guards led Lyra to the freezing, dark room where Meria's body was being kept until she had reacted at all.

Princess Arienne was slightly hurt when her cousin shrieked and bolted the door behind her, but nevertheless, she silently left her cousin to grieve for the loss of her last living parent. Trying to distract her mind from the dire situation she was currently in, Arienne quietly went down to the courtyard to address the Red Cloaks, of whom, in her cousin's grief, had forgotten about.

Due to her own men currently being housed within the castle walls, Arienne wasn't sure where to put the 200 Red Cloaks; the Dreadfort was quickly running out of space to house soldiers and horses. Speaking to Ser Addam, they'd agreed that the Red Cloaks could share one of the large halls of the Dreadfort for the time being.

"I'm sorry that this is the best we can do for our allies and my dear cousin's men," Arienne apologized to the Lannister knight.

"We take no offense Princess Arienne. We simply thank you for a roof over our heads and shelter from the cold," Ser Addam told her graciously. Unlike many other Lannister knights, who were used to being catered to out of fear of House Lannister, Addam was quite reasonable and expected no more or less from the Dornishmen in the Dreadfort.

Having her temporary stewart put them in the hall and order some men to help build a fire for the Red Cloaks, Arienne begged Ser Addam's leave. For now, she would let Lyra privately grieve for Princess Meria, but Arienne could no longer avoid Princess Myrcella.

Walking to the rooms she had given Myrcella, Arienne passed the guards and entered unannounced. Though Myrcella was not a prisoner, nor was Arienne going to treat her as such, she still had the Princess under heavy guard and ordered her to stay in her rooms for her own safety. This was all _mostly_ true, but Arienne also did not completely trust the Princess not to send a raven to her mother. Arienne didn't even want that crazy woman Myrcella had for a mother to know that Arienne had Myrcella until, if and when, they went to take back Dorne. Not only was Myrcella Arienne's hope to garner support in regaining her seat in Sunspear, but the girl was also "insurance" should Cersei do anything crazy like killing Arienne along with Ellaria and the Sand Snakes.

 _Treacherous **bitch** ,_ were the words that kept going through Arienne's head whenever she thought of the bastard woman. At first, Arienne was grieved and inconsolable just as Lyra currently was, but now, she was angry and hungry for vengeance. Just as she hoped Lyra would be once she recovered from Princess Meria's death.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra grieves for her mother, Jaime returns to King's Landing, and Arienne finally talks to Myrcella.**


	25. Chapter 25: Family

**Chapter 25: Family**

Though Princess Arienne still hated the girl, Myrcella, for being a catalyst for the decimation of House Martell by Ellaria Sand and the Sand Snakes, she felt pity for the poor girl. Looking at the blonde dropped in dark grey and black fabric and furs, she was washed-out looking, especially in the muted grey light caused by the snow clouds; her skin becoming pale and sick looking with dark puffy, red eyes to match. Arienne supposed that the girl was both scared and mourning for Trystane too.

After asking the handmaiden Arienne shared with Myrcella (Arienne was with two handmaidens when the loyalists came to save her) to leave, Myrcella stood from her spot at the small alcove overlooking the battlements of the Dreadfort. Arienne and Myrcella paused at each other for a few moment before Myrcella broke that awkward silence.

"Have soldiers arrived to save us?" She asked quietly.

"Your Lady aunt, Lyra Lannister, has come to our aid," Arienne replied flatly; she was trying to control her anger towards the other princess. Though Arienne knew it wasn't actually her fault, a part of her still hated the girl.

"Has my uncle, Jaime, come as well?" Myrcella brightened a bit at this.

Arienne sat down at the small table with two seats made of iron with embroidered cushions, and motioned for Myrcella to join her.

"I'm afraid not," Arienne replied, pouring herself that _awful_ mead. When they took over the Dreadfort, Arienne realized why the Boltons were generally disliked by their own vassals; the man had not respect for his own men's lives! Arienne was shocked that Roose had left so little supplies and weaponry for his men guarding the Dreadfort while he ruled in Winterfell. Growing up in Dorne, Arienne had never drank anything like she drank wine, so she'd never developed a taste for mead or any other drink. The mead that the men managed to make- how could anybody possible handle this castle sober? Was genuinely _awful_ too, however, the past two days had been quite hard, and at the moment, Arienne honestly didn't care about the taste of the mead.

"Lord Lannister is unable to come to our aid right now, but Lyra has brought two hundred members of the Lannister calvary in addition to having around two thousand soldiers waiting at the Twins," Arienne needed to explain the situation to Myrcella. It wasn't fair to keep the girl in the dark about things that could be life or death for her, for them all. Draining the ale by the end of explaining their numbers to Myrcella, Arienne added gravely, "but we _still_ don't have the numbers to take on the Boltons." Arienne knew that the Boltons would fight her and the Loyalists when they attempted to head South; currently, House Martell is allied with the Crown and Arienne is currently giving shelter to Princess Myrcella, and considering that Sansa Stark, a fugitive of the Crown, just married into House Bolton, they would try to stop Arienne and Myrcella from getting to the Crown. It seemed to Arienne that the Boltons are hoping to wait out the War and allow every one else's army decimate each other so that come Spring, the Crown didn't stand a chance against a newly allied North.

Tia came in, out of breath as if she had been running' "Princess Arienne. A raven just came from Winterfell!"

Before leaving Tia with Myrcella while she headed for the lord's solar, Arienne looked back at Myrcella, fear consuming her face, and attempted to give the girl a reassuring look.

* * *

Having spent all night in her mother's room with her corpse, Lyra awoke from nightmares of death consuming her mind. Feeling ice cold and dirty, Lyra realized that she'd fallen asleep in the corner adjacent to her mother's bed, and stood, brushing herself off. Walking to her mother's side, Lyra kissed her on her forehead before leaving.

"I'm sorry Mother," Lyra whispered to her as her mother slept in death.

Exiting her mother's room, the guards straightened back up.

"Lady Lyra," one of the guards spoke, "I guarded your mother from in Sunspear and now I guard her in death. You have my sincerest condolences." He offered.

Forcing a small smile, Lyra thanked him for his kindness before leaving to find Arienne. Going down the dingy stone hallways, Lyra walked past Arienne's steward. Asking him if he knew where the princess of Dorne was, the man took her to the Lord's Solar. Walking in, Princess Arienne, Ser Dezial, and Ser Addam were gathered around a table, looking as if Lyra had just interrupted an important conversation.

When the steward closed the door behind him, Lyra asked; "Something's wrong isn't it."

Ser Addam, giving Lyra the scroll said, "Lady Lannister...we're in more danger than we initially thought."

Looking at the scroll, Lyra read aloud:

 _To the Dornishmen and Lady Lannister_

 _You have been caught by our men illegally entering our land and taking over our castle, the Dreadfort._

 _You are thus invaders and will be treated as such._

 _Get out of the North immediately or I will flay your men and rape and flay you along with your cousin, Sansa Stark, Lady Bolton._

 _Surrender Lady Bolton if you have her, or you will suffer the consequences._

 _Lord Ramsey Bolton_

 _Natural Born Son of Roose Bolton, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell._

"I recommend that we send a raven to Lord Lannister and alert our remaining army," Ser Addam advised Lyra.

"And do what? The moment we head South for the Neck, the Boltons and their banner men will have us slaughtered!" Lyra told the knight, fear quivering in her voice.

"We have all been talking, Lyra," Arienne began, "Isn't your cousin, Jon Snow, a member of the Night's Watch. At her cousin's reply of "yes", Arienne continued; "We've recently learned that he has risen to the rank of Lord Commander.

At this news, Lyra couldn't help but to smile to herself. Jon was always _so much_ like his father, Ned, always wanting to be "honorable", loyal, kind, and dutiful just like the former Lord Stark. Jon was always so talented with a sword too, Lyra would probably argue that Ned Stark's bastard had more raw talent as a swordsman that his true born son, Robb Stark. Due to these qualities, Lyra always felt like her cousin, Jon, would rise in the world, bastard or no. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch suited him perfectly in Lyra's opinion.

Continuing on explaining the plan they'd worked out in Lyra's absence. They would send a raven to King's Landing, explaining their situation and that Princess Myrcella Baratheon was with them at the Dreadfort. While Ser Ty Lannister would be sent to the Twins and gather the remaining of Lyra's Lannister army and lead them North, meeting them at the Wall; which is where everyone else was to seek refuge. The Wall was supposed to be politically neutral, but it was well know that if fugitives of the North needed to go somewhere, the Wall was likely to give them shelter. Of course, that was usually small groups of men on the run from the law who would join the Night's Watch eventually. The Wall didn't often take larger groups of soldiers. However, Jon was Lord Commander, and if anyone was likely to help them, it would be Lyra's cousin. She and Sansa were, after all, his only family left alive.

After they agreed upon their plan, Ser Dezial and Ser Addam left the two women in the Lord's Solar while they attended to their respective forces to ready for the wall.

Trying to smooth down her disheveled hair, Lyra asked the question she was burning to know since she'd heard of the Martell party taking refuge up North; what happened in Dorne?

Arienne finished another cup of that awful mead before answering. Regaling her tale of how they had landed only a day at Sunspear before the political tension that was forming before, finally came to a head with the death of Prince Oberyn and the continued good relations with the crown and House Lannister. Lyra's mother saw her last living brother and Aero Hotah get stabbed by Ellaria and Obara Sand. Princess Meria took one of the fallen soldier's sword and attempted to defend herself until the Loyalists realized the situation and came to the Princess's rescue. Managing to take Tyene Sand hostage, Meria had Trystane and Arienne alerted to be taken by boat to the Trident. Everyone believed that Cersei poisoned Lyra, so they did not want to have to make deals with her, but they knew that Lyra would at least try to help restore Arienne to her rightful seat in Sunspear. However, after the storm, they realized that the cut Meria had received while she was fending off Obara and Ellaria, was covered in a poison meant to kill a victim slowly after the battle was over. Meria had learned from Oberyn to try and leech or bleed the poison out, but by the time they'd realized what was happening, bleeding or leaching Meria wouldn't have saved her.

Listening carefully, Lyra's emotions had gone dull in the past twenty four hours, but she _did_ become angry at the mention of Tyene. "Where is she?" Lyra wanted to know.

Leading her cousin down to a dungeon, Lyra looked through the many barred rectangular holes looking into the rooms, most of them had large crosses with four leather straps. Seeing this and evidence that they'd been there for many years, she supposed that despite the Stark's ban on flaying, House Bolton continued to flay in secret anyways. Leading her to the cell at the corner, which was larger and open compared to the rest, the guard left her with Tyene Sand, alone.

The young woman, who was not much younger than Lyra herself, faced the wall with a barred window, looking outside to the grey wasteland. They were feeding Tyene well and doing their best to treat her with dignity as Prince Oberyn's bastard daughter, as Lyra surmised, looking at the trays with crumbs and a bed with furs to keep her warm, as well as the Sand Snake covered in furs. Her hair was much shorter from the last time Lyra saw her cousin. She'd probably cut it as part of mourning for her father.

"Why?" Lyra asked. She wanted to know _why_ the people she loved would do something as horrible as this.

Turning around to face her, Tyene looked Lyra over before smiling, "They've managed to make a real Lannister out of you," she mocked. "I hardly hear any Dornish when you speak."

"Why Tyene? Why would you all have your cousins, your aunt, and your uncle, the Prince, killed when we all took you in and treated you as family. Angry tears began to prick Lyra's eyes.

"After my father, Prince Oberyn, the only father figure you had after your own father so stupidly got himself and his own father killed by Mad King Aerys, was killed by Crown and the Lannisters, and Doran said that he would do _nothing,_ we realized that House Martell was _weak_ and its heir were _weak_ ," Tyene said, silently fuming anger. Tears beginning to stream down her eyes, she added, "House Martell was in _dire_ need of strong leadership in order to lead the people of Dorne to war against the usurpers and their lap cats, the Lannisters. Though family was in power." Lyra met her cousin eye-to-eye as she finished,"sometimes, _sacrifices must be made_."

* * *

As soon as everyone was ready, they all slipped out as quietly as they could to head North towards the Wall. The Boltons were expecting them to go South, so the Martells and the Lannisters all figured that they would be less guarded North. Lyra just hoped that Ser Ty would even make it down to the Twins, let alone enable the rest of Lyra's Lannister army come to their aid.

Everyone in the combined Martell and Lannister parties rode a horse if they could find one, while the rest tried to catch up as best as they could. Even Princess Myrcella and Tyene Sand rode horses, along with the heaviest furs they could find, for their trek to the Wall. Tyene, however, was bound to her horse's saddle and a guard rode behind her to make sue that she didn't try escaping. When this was suggested, Lyra agreed, just to be safe, however, she doubted that even if Tyene found herself in a position to escape, she likely wouldn't; the Boltons were labeling the Dornish and the Lannisters as "invaders" and the climate of the North makes it impossible that Tyene could even survive without her captors.

They were also taking Princess Meria's corpse along with them. Even Lyra had argued that if Meria were alive, she'd tell them to forget her body and get to the wall as soon as possible. However, as the new Ruling Princess of Dorne, Arienne told Lyra that she could not allow anyone in the Royal Family to not be given a proper burial at him in Sunspear. Loading Meria's corpse on a cart, as dignified as possible given the circumstances, they carried her with them to the Wall.

Riding as fast as they could while also trying to not draw attention, the Martell-Lannister party rode all day and continued riding through the night

* * *

Ass hurting from the long and hard ride Danyl just made back from scouting the small Lannister party at the Dreadfort, the Bolton soldier smelled the air. It smelled of cooked beef, mead, and potatoes. Danyl's stomach hurt when the smell hit his nostrils; he hadn't eaten since sunrise and the sun was now gone.

Walking through the new, large oak doors to the Great Hall where the Lord of Winterfell's seat, currently occupied by the new Lord Bolton, was located at the head of a dias. Walking up the steps of the dias, Danyl cautiously approached Lord Bolton and handed him the raven's scroll, saying, "From a raven we shot down. It looked to be headed in the direction of King's Landing."

Dismissing the soldier, Ramsey opened and broken the crimson Lannister seal. Smiling gleefully at the scroll's contents, he crumpled it and tossed it into the fire. A servant came and served Ramsey his beef and potatoes, along with a sausage. Ever since castrating Theon Greyjoy to turn the man into Reek, Ramsey enjoyed taunting the traitor with sausages, and as a result, he developed a taste for them.

Digging into the warm meal, Ramsey delightfully thought to himself; _a battle is coming!_

* * *

 **Next: Jaime finally returns to King's Landing and the Martell-Lannister party arrives to the Wall.**


	26. Chapter 26: The Wall

**Chapter 26: The Wall**

Wandering around **,** Jon noticed how the Free Folk and the brothers of the Nights Watch avoided each other. Though the Free Folk were handling this alliance better than Jon's Brothers, he still wanted to knock some sense into both parties. If they don't work together, then none of them would survive the Winter.

And Winter is coming. What Ned Stark always promised was about to come true.

After giving the builders their assignments to re-enforce the Wall so that they'd be better prepared for the White Walkers, Jon retreated to the, relative, warmth of the Lord Commander's solar. He was writing to the lords and ladies, now, all over the North to ask for re-enforcements at the Wall for the Winter.

"Lord Commander," Doloreous Ed busted through the door; red nosed from the cold and out of breath.

"There's a Lannister and Dornish host at the door. A woman claiming to be your cousin is begging for help."

Without another word, Jon shot up from his chair, pulled his black cloak of the Night's Watch on, and headed out towards the gate.

"We _have_ Princess Myrcella Baratheon with us. Please, let us in before we freeze to death!"

Jon hadn't heard that voice in a long time, but he recognized its owner. Telling the Gate Keeper to open the doors for the party, a group of almost 2,000 men of the Westerlands and Dorne, and their horses, rode in to Castle Black. Searching among the group, Jon looked for long, red Tully hair, but he did not spot Sansa among the riders at the front, not anywhere else in the party.

Dismounting from a thin, brown horse, Jon's cousin, wearing chainmail, leggings, her tattered and ripped Stark tunic, and a heavy black fur cloak, paused when she came near him. Lyra, unsure of what to do since she had not seen Jon in four years, awkwardly looked down before saying, "Hello Jon."

"Lady Lannister," Jon acknowledged his cousin; who's face slowly broke into a smile. Jon began to laugh with her as they warmly embraced, just as they always had.

"Look at you!" Lyra exclaimed. Though their situation was quite dire, despite herself, she still couldn't believe how high Jon had climbed in the world. _Especially_ for a bastard named "Snow". "Last I saw you, you were only Jon Snow, the son of Lord Stark; now, you're _Lord Commander_ Jon Snow."

"I suppose that the Wall is a good place for a bastard boy with nothing to inherit to rise in the world," Jon told his cousin.

When Lyra noticed Jon looking over her shoulder, she also noticed his face fall to a serious demeanor of decorum; the one her lord uncle, Ned Stark, usually wore. Gods Jon reminded her of Ned! Perhaps even more so than Robb.

"Lord Commander," Princess Arienne addressed Jon. "I am the Ruling Princess of Dorne, Arienne Martell." Jon respectfully acknowledged her. Looking at Myrcella who was looking around fearfully before quickly looking back at Jon, Arienne was becoming annoyed with the girl's lack of spine. It was as if all of her spunk had died along with Trystane. "Forgive me, _this_ ," Arienne looking at the frightened girl next to her, "is Princess Myrcella Baratheon of King's Landing."

Seeming to snap out of her anxious daze, Myrcella, likely due to her training as Princess, smiled sweetly when Jon addressed her as "Your Grace" before kissing her hand.

"Jon," Lyra said, getting his attention. Looking around at how many ears were around them asked; "is there anywhere we can speak more privately?"

* * *

Jaime had to pay the captain of the merchant ship to turn around and get back to King's Landing immediately; which made Bronn a little twitchy until Jaime assured him that if he continued to help him, then he would give the sell-sword-turned-anointed knight lands with a beauty for a wife. None of which currently mattered to Jaime as he walked down the halls of the Red Keep to the Hand's new solar, and shuddered at the memory of Cersei burning down the last one in an attempt to force Tyrion out of hiding.

If Queen Margeary's presence had already caused Cersei to become "touched", then Tywin's death at the hands of Tyrion had unhinged her. Jaime would never forget how his twin sister's eyes had sparkled with wonder and awe as the old Tower of the Hand was burned. Cersei's eyes never left the flames as she held on to one of the knights of the King's Guard.

Bursting through the door and clearly startling his uncle, Ser Kevan, Jaime began asking questions, to which he knew his uncle would have answers for. When Kevan got to the part about how Cersei had restored the Faith Militant, while also managing to get herself and the Queen thrown in prison at the Sept, Jaime had no words; he could only shake his head at Cersei's own undoing. However, his ears pricked up when Ser Kevan told him about Lyra's letter that arrived while he was gone.

"And all she said was 'I'm sorry' after saying that she was taking the army to the Twins?" Jaime asked, puzzled. _Why would she not give me a reason?_ He wondered.

"I'm afraid so, Jaime, and no other ravens have come since that one she sent," Kevan told him.

Stopping so that he could think for a moment, Jaime rubbed his eyes as he walked around the solar.

 _Something has gone wrong_. Lyra told him everything; suddenly redirecting to the Twins without telling him why was not something Jaime's wife would do. He needed to get to the Twins with the rest of his army as soon as possible.

"I will leave my sister with her requested amount of Red Cloaks, of whom I'd like for you," Jaime looked at his uncle Kevan, "to command on my orders." Cersei had proven herself too crazed with the zealous Faith Militant for Jaime to trust her with part of the Lannister forces. "Cersei ordered me to go to Dorne; I can't because Oberyn's bastard daughters have rebelled." Ser Kevan gave him a look of shock, in a city full of spies, how could nobody know?

After explaining his trip to Dorne and why to his uncle, Jaime continued; "I have been away from my wife far too long. If Cersei wants me to end the siege of Riverrun, then I shall do so; but I have done enough for the Crown. It's time for me to go back to the Rock."

"I agree," Jaime was surprised to hear Ser Kevan say. "Cersei has kept you from your duties as the head of House Lannister for far too long, and we need to prepare for the Winter." Kevan went back to his work, assuring Jaime that he would command the 2,000 men in his name, while also dealing with Cersei and the problems she had created. Not that Jaime cared much; as far as Jaime was concerned, Cersei made a mess that she could clean up herself, he was tired of cleaning up after his twin.

Hastily making his way down the hall, Jaime needed to find Bronn so that he could help him gather the army and depart for the Twins.

* * *

It was around supper when the Lannister-Martell party arrived to the Wall, and seeing as everyone looked cold, exhausted, and hungry, Jon went ahead and had the evening's meal brought out as they all sat at a small, private table. Myrcella, eating quickly but as daintily as possible, finished first and asked to turn in for the night. Feeling that the girl would feel safer being escorted by the men of her mother's house, Lyra had two Lannister knights escort her as a steward showed the princess to an empty room.

As soon as Myrcella left, Jon leaned forward. "You're lucky that Stannis left the Wall only to be defeated by the Boltons not too long ago," he said gravely. According to Jon, Stannis and his army were at the Wall shortly before Lyra, Arienne, and Myrcella had arrived. Apparently, in exchange for Jon's help, Stannis promised to legitimize him and make him Lord of Winterfell; everything that Lyra knew Jon had always wanted. She always thought it was sad that Jon had much more than most, yet the only things he truly desired were a name and to be accepted as part of his lord father's family.

"Why are you here?" Jon finally asked his cousin.

Exchanging exhausted lookes with Arienne, Lyra told her cousin everything. She told him about how she left 2,000 Lannister men at the Twins to come to Princess Arienne's and Princess Myrcella's aid at the Dreadfort; and she told him about the raven Ramsey Bolton set her, threatening to have everyone flayed. Jon listened carefully at her long tale, bristling at the fact that the Boltons would dare resume flaying when the Starks had it outlawed as a barbaric practice.

"We don't plan to stay here long. As soon as our remaining forces arrive, which should only be days from now, we plan to leave right away," Lyra told Jon when he mentioned how little food rations they had, but would share it with the Lannister-Martell men. Then, looking at Ser Addam, who was currently seated beside her, Lyra decided to give him the ultimate test of loyalty; she was going to tell him about Sansa. "We were also hoping that Sansa would be here."

"Aye, I was also hoping that Sansa would be among your party," Jon's sad, dark eyes met Lyra's warm brown ones. Seeing her cousin loosing the last bit of hope he was holding out for his last half-sister's survival, Lyra couldn't help but to tell him about Brienne of Tarth and how Jaime had charged her with finding and protecting Sansa. Looking out of the corner of her eye at Ser Addam, Lyra noticed that the man hadn't even flinched.

"Lord Commander-oh, sorry," one of the brothers of the Night's Watch interrupted them. Jon told him that they'd only be a moment, but Lyra insisted that he go attend to his lordly duties and asked to see a maester for her gash.

"We have no maester," Jon told her, sadness filling his voice. "You are welcome to his stores though."

Relieved at the prospect of getting sleep in a bed along with the opportunity to properly change her bandages and apply new salve to her wound, Lyra tried to stop the light jump of triumph in her step as she and Arienne followed the steward to a room near Myrcella's. However, this small victory of safely getting everyone to the Wall and successfully getting permission to stay there until re-enforcements arrived was shortly lived when Lyra noticed that Ser Addam was walking only right behind her.

After the steward left, Lyra pulled Addam into an empty room so that they might have a private chat. After admonishing her as best as he could considering that Lyra was the wife of his beige lord, Addam got to the reason why he was agitated again.

"You and Lord Lannister both are trying to aid Sansa Stark?" The knight asked in an angry whisper.

"If you're angry that I didn't tell you, I'll tell you why; it wasn't pertinent information to my safety," Lyra told him matter of factly. " _And_ we are not aiding Sansa Stark. Only...third party affiliates are," she finished sheepishly.

Ser Addam looked as if he were to argue further, but decided against it. "Lord Lannister-"

"That's right, _Lord Lannister_ , the Queen Mother's twin brother, sanctioned... _someone_ who is pledged to Catlin Stark to find and save Sansa Stark. _Not you nor I nor House Lannister are actually aiding a fugitive of the Crown_." Lyra didn't care to argue further. Two days and nights on horse back with a gash on her thighs had taken its toll on her yesterday. A relatively warm bed sounded heavenly to her right now and she intended to join it as soon as Jaime's old friend decided to get out of her face.

Assuring Ser Addam, for probably the fifth time since they'd gone North, that she would take the blame when Jaime found out, and also that they were most definitely _not_ committing treason if Sansa happened to walk into Castle Black and they didn't arrest her. Seeming somewhat satisfied with this, Lyra told him that she was headed for bed. Closing the door to the room that the steward had given her for her stay at Castle Black, Lyra heard Addam's boots clanking as he walked away while muttering something about making sure that the lads find a place to hole up for the night.

Finally alone, Lyra bolted the door and began to strip as much as she dared in this cold. Pulling off her boots and leggings, Lyra unwrapped the bandages at her thigh, wincing at the pain and how nasty her gash still looked. The maester at the Dreadfort stitched it up, telling her how she will know when it was time to take them out, and gave her a salve. Cleaning the wound as best she could with ice cold water and a clean cloth, Lyra applied the wretchedly stinging salve before putting a clean dressing on it. Climbing into bed, Lyra fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 _Find the Sword_

 _The raven landed on a pot next to the door in the Red Keep._

 _Find the sword, it crowed._

 _Find the sword!_

Lyra awoke to pitch black. The short candle she was given must have gone out while she slept. Hearing much commotion and men shouting outside the room, Lyra opened the door to see what was happening.

Seeing a boy who couldn't be older than fifteen, Lyra grabbed him and pulled him aside. "What's happening? Is the castle under attack?" She asked the equally frightened looking lad.

"N-no my lady. The Lord Commander is dead!"

Shocked, Lyra let go of the boy, who quickly ran to where, she was presuming, the courtyard. Heart racing, Lyra could only slump against a wall, pulling up her knees as she did so, as this information sank into her.

 _No._

 _No, no, no!_

Putting her face in her hands, Lyra couldn't believe it. She had so many relatives, and now, she had only two of them left, at least of whom she still considered family, and one of those relatives was missing in a hostile wasteland while the other was stuck with Lyra herself at the Wall; which was now no longer a safe place to be with Jon dead.

 _What am I going to do?_ She asked herself, defeated. Jon was their last hope until the remaining Lannister army could get to the Wall.

* * *

 **Next: Arienne and Lyra try to solve the problems their new situation has caused, Jaime leaves King's Landing, and the remainder of Stannis's army comes to the Wall.**


	27. Chapter 27: Watchers on the Wall

**Chapter 27: Watchers on the Wall**

Telling Arienne and Myrcella to stay in their rooms, Lyra doubled their guards. She didn't think that they were in any danger, but Lyra didn't want to risk their lives or safety, and with Jon now dead, anything could happen to them all.

Realizing that she was in her small clothes and cloak, Lyra went back to her room to grab her garb and her sword and dagger before checking on the ruckus. Leaving the door cracked open to let in just enough light so that she could dress, Lyra sheathed Night's Queen at her hip, but kept her dagger in her hand just in case she ran into trouble. Finally dressing, Lyra took a deep breath before running down the hallway to the courtyard. Turning a corner, she ran straight into Ser Addam.

"Lady Lannister," he said, helping her off the cold floor. The knight was about to come rouse her from sleep before running into her.

"Did you see it?! The Lord Commander, is he..." Lyra felt a lump in her throat. She couldn't bring herself to ask him if her cousin was truly dead. The silence that ensued and Addam's crest fallen face gave her the answer: Jon Snow was indeed dead.

"Take me to his body," Lyra commanded with as little emotion as she could. She didn't want to appear weak in front of her second-in-command.

"If I could, I would, but-"

"I don't care about the circumstances," Lyra interrupted. "Just bloody take me to his body!" She hated to speak to him this way, but her emotions and anxiety were getting the better of her.

Nodding, Ser Addam told Lyra to follow him. Jon's body was apparently on the other side of the castle since they had to cross the courtyard. After turning a couple of corners in the hallways, they stopped at a door crowded by men of the Night's Watch.

"Don't be fools!" One man shouted.

"You're guarding a _body_!" Another said.

"What's going on?" Lyra asked a middle aged man with curls that appeared to be blonde once, but had now faded to grey-white.

The man, who said that his name was Ser Allister Thorne, told Lyra that some of the men who were loyal to Jon are refusing to give up his body for burial. Instead, they seemed to be planning to take out as many brothers as they could when their hand was forced and they had to storm the room.

"It's the business of the men of the Night's Watch Lady Lannister. You should go back to your men. I will give you two days for the men to recover, but afterwards, I'm afraid that we're going to have to ask you to leave." Though Lyra doubted that a new Lord Commander had been elected yet, Ser Allister sounded as if he was sure that he was next in line after Jon.

"With all due respect Ser Allister, Jon Snow was one of my last living relatives, thus, this _is_ my concern," Lyra stared back into the man's steely eyes. "I know that Jon wouldn't have wanted for this to happen; for his brothers to fight each other over his corpse. When tragedies like this occur, emotions tend to run high and men lose all sense of reasoning. Please, allow me to talk to them," Lyra begged him. She needed to get in that room. She needed to see Jon's corpse herself. Thorne seemed to be wavering; perhaps he didn't want the Night's Watch to look worse than it already did to the Lannisters.

"I'm going to politely ask you to leave," Thorne said.

As some of the men of the Night's Watch, including Thorne, advanced on them in an attempt to force Lyra out of the hallway, they suddenly stepped back and drew their swords. Ser Addam and Lyra drew their swords as well in response, but the brothers weren't looking at _them_ with their swords; they were looking behind Ser Addam and Lyra. Looking out of the corner of her eye, Lyra saw what they were so afraid of: Ghost, Jon's white dire wolf. The massive dire wolf walked up to Lyra's side, bearing his teeth. Snarling.

"Let us through, or we will be forced to use force," Lyra stated darkly. "The Wall _may_ be politically neutral, but _we_ out number all of the brothers in this castle; if you _try_ to fight us and end up killing me, then I fear the worst for you. _I_ might be understanding about your little _outburst_ Ser Thorne, but my husband, the _Kingslayer_ , will most certainly _not_ ," Lyra threatened.

Thorne stared the three of them down before sheathing his sword and telling the rest to do the same. "Though I am a brother of the Night's Watch, I'm still a knight," he stated flatly. "Raising steel to a lady whose houses have been _relatively_ generous to us during times of war is unchivalrous." Lyra knew that Thorne was being sarcastic, but if it let her through, then so be it.

"Come lads," Thorne addressed the other brothers. "We need to have another election. The Wall needs a new Lord Commander." As the men of the Night's Watch walked past Lyra and Ser Addam, they all glared at one another.

When the last brother had left, Lyra quickly went and knocked on the door. She heard swords unsheathe and the door opened just enough for a bearded man to open the door.

"Who are ye?" The bearded man asked.

"Lady Lannister, but in another life, I was known as Lady Lyra Stark," Lyra answered. She wanted the men in the room to know that she was a member of Jon's family. At this, the door closed and locked. Lyra heard the men speak amongst themselves before the door was opened and Lyra, Addam, and Ghost quickly filed into the room.

Walking to the corpse laying on the table, Lyra was horrified. There were multiple stab wounds all over Jon's chest. One man couldn't have done this; Jon Snow was murdered by multiple people.

"Who did this?" Lyra asked, bewildered. She had been under the impression that Jon was generally well liked and accepted among the brothers as Lord Commander.

"Thorne and those other _cunts_ who follow him," a rather thin brother with beady eyes responded.

* * *

Sitting in the absent Queen's chambers, Tyrion pulled out Lyra's red leather book. Ever since Queen Daenerys left with Drogon, Mereen had become rather destabilized. Now with the threat of the Dragon Queen gone, the Son's of the Harpy and the slavers the queen had conquered were running amok. It seemed to Tyrion that without the threat of dragons, things would slowly slide back into slavery. Though the book on dragons hadn't said much about how to tame a dragon, Tyrion was hoping that he'd missed something that would clue him in on how to go about releasing the other two dragons down in the vault.

"Still intend to release the dragons?" Varys asked; coming into the room.

"Yes," Tyrion answered without looking away from the pages of the book. "The slavers bowed to the dragons just as the Seven Kingdoms once did. In order to help restore stability to Slaver's Bay, we need the other two dragons since our queen took off with the only dragon that was flying around freely."

Looking up from the book, Tyrion realized something. "Why are you here? I thought that you were going to scout the city?"

Varys sighed tiredly before sitting with Tyrion and pouring himself wine. "Our queen's ships were burned in the harbor. Likely the work of the Sons of the Harpy."

Crestfallen, Tyrion rubbed his tired eyes. "Looks like our queen won't be sailing to Westros anytime soon."

"I fear not," Varys agreed. "What are you reading?" He inquired.

"This book was given to me by Lyra Stark while I was falsely imprisoned for Joffrey's murder," Tyrion took a tone of harshness with Varys; he was still a little upset with the Spider for being a witness and refusing to defend him at that farce of a trial in King's Landing.

"You mean 'Lady Lyra Lannister'," Varys shot back as if Tyrion were dimwitted.

"Yes, the woman who married my brother and became the new Lady Lannister upon my father's death," Tyrion said casually as he flipped the pages. Finding what he was looking for, he never thought that Lyra's book on what the world believed to be an extinct species would ever become so handy.

Closing the book, Tyrion began to make his way down to the vault with Varys. He now knew what to do, but was terrified to do so.

Walking silently, Varys suddenly stopped. "When we _do_ go to Westeros, our queen will need support. Do you think that _any_ great house will support a Targaryen's claim?" He asked Tyrion seriously.

Thinking for a moment, "Oddly, I _do."_

* * *

After day turned to night, not that there was much difference between the two at Castle Black, Lyra ordered Ser Addam to assure their men and the Princesses that all is well. For now at least. She herself would wait for the man called Dolorous Ed to come back.

After Ser Addam left, albeit with much prodding and arguing, Lyra sat down on the floor. It was unladylike for her to do so, but she had been standing since the early morning hours and her legs were beginning to hurt. Particularly, her left thigh where her bandaged cut was. Bored, she took out her dagger and began to use it to scrape the dirt from her fingernails. The men in the room with her were holding out hope for Dolorous Ed, which she didn't know why; Jon was dead and there was nothing nor anybody who could bring him back...

After a time, the bearded man, who Lyra found out to be called Ser Davos Seaworth, asked if he could sit next to her. When she told him that she didn't see why not, he plopped down against the wall with her.

"All of _this_ for a corpse?" Lyra finally asked. Sheathing her dagger and turning to face Ser Davos, she asked, "What is it that you're hoping for?" She'd heard them speak of a "red woman" before Dolorous Ed left, but she hadn't been paying too much attention to their conversation; she was too busy losing her mind from worry about what they were going to do once Thorne and his men stormed the room and Lyra was forced out of the castle with the Lannister-Martell soldiers in a day.

"The Red Woman," Davos answered her. " _She_ is our last hope, Lady Lannister."

"What can one 'Red Woman' do?" Lyra asked; thinking that Davos had gone mad.

"With all due respect Lady Lannister, you haven't seen what I've seen this woman do," Davos said forebodingly.

"What do you think she's going to do? _Raise him from the dead?_ " Lyra was certain now that these men were mad.

Ser Davos faced her, and with all seriousness, he told her; "That's exactly what I think she will do."

Staring back at Ser Davos incredulously, Lyra decided against saying anything. Instead, she took out her dagger and continued to get the dirt wedged in her fingernails.

"If you don't believe in magic, my lady, then why are you here? It would be much safer for you to be amongst your men instead."

Lyra paused for a second, she wasn't exactly sure as to why she was still watching over a corpse. "You know, my uncle Prince Rhaegar believed in magic and prophecies. In fact, he believed in them so much that he honestly believed that he was the 'Prince that was Promised', and now he's dead." Going back to focusing on her nails, she realized that she hadn't answered his question. "To answer your question Ser Davos: I suppose that I'm here because when they knock down that door, I plan to take Jon's body with me. I will _not_ let him be buried with treasonous traitors. However, I also suppose that I'm quite curious about Stannis's Red Woman; especially since you don't believe in the Gods, yet you believe in her magic. This intrigues me greatly."

Thinking and nodding his head, Ser Davos told her, "Since you're so concerned with Lord Snow's corpse; if the Red Woman can't bring him back, we will go peacefully and you can take your cousin's corpse with you. However, this woman is no ordinary woman." Ser Davos then went on to explain how he witnessed her drink poison that could kill her, and instead killed the man who attempted to poison her. Then about how she gave birth to a demon in a cave.

Looking back at Ser Davos, Lyra considered him for a moment. _The man is clearly insane, yet why does he sound sane?_ She mused before going back to the dirt in her nails. She didn't want to believe it, it would get her hopes up needlessly.

After a time, Dolorous Ed came back with the Red Woman in tow. "We need to hurry, Thorne has just been elected and he's eager to get on with things. If Lady Lannister doesn't leave by morning, he says that they'll be forced to take down the door."

Looking at the Red Woman, Lyra understood why they called her a witch. Despite the cold weather, the woman was still only wearing her light red dress, while not even appearing to be cold in the slightest.

Asking why she was brought here, Davos answered that he was hoping that she could help the Lord Commander.

"You mean 'Former' Lord Commander," she stated sadly; looking at Jon's corpse.

"Do you know of any magic...that can help him," Davos hesitated. "To bring him back..."

"I can help you dig a hole," she offered, looking at the floor defeated.

"Can it be done?" Davos asked with desperation.

Thinking of how monumentally wrong she was about Stannis, the woman only answered, "There are _some_ with this power... _I_ am not one of those people."

"But you've seen it done?" When she didn't answer "no", Davos continued, "Can you at least _try_?"

Still looking at the floor in contemplation, she finally said to everyone in the room, "I once saw a priest bring a man back from the dead, but...it shouldn't have been possible." She said the last part more to herself. Looking up at Davos, she added, "I once believed in the power, but I was wrong," she sounded tearful. "The great victory I saw in the flames...you were right all along. The lord never spoke to me."

The room fell silent. It was filled with so much despair and hopelessness that Lyra could have cut it with her dagger. Angry, she finally stood from her spot against the wall; she wasn't going to risk her life as well as Arienne and Marcella's for this _witch_ to not even try. "Lady Mellisandre is it?" Lyra got her attention; she didn't seem to notice her sitting against the wall. "Please," Lyra said, almost begging. "Please try. _At least try_..." Looking over at Jon's corpse, Lyra felt tears in her eyes and her vision blurred. "He was my cousin and one of my last living family, and I loved him... _Please just try_." At this, Lyra put a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder. "This man," Lyra said, looking at Ser Davos, "Doesn't even believe in the Gods, but he believes in _your magic_. Even if it's not as real as you or he believe it to be, what harm will simply _trying_ do? Jon is already dead...nothing can hurt him anymore."

Electric blue eyes met warm brown eyes as the ladies Melissandre and Lannister considered one another for a moment. "Lady Lannister? Why are you here among these men?" Why would a high born lady married into their enemy's house be here of all places, siding with Stannis's right hand man?

Looking at Ser Davos, Lyra answered; "Honestly? I don't know the answer myself, but I know one thing; strangely, I have faith in Ser Davos, and he believes in _you_. I don't believe in magic, myself...please prove me wrong."

"The Seven Gods, the Drowned Gods, the Tree Gods...it's all the same to me. We're not asking for the Gods' help; we're asking for the help of the woman who showed me that miracles exist," Ser Davos chimed in.

The two women stared at one another for a long time. Lyra was staring the witch down, but the witch was looking into Lyra's eyes as if she was seeing more than just her brown eyes. Taking a deep breath, the Red Woman finally agreed to try and began to ready the chamber.

Watching the Red Woman, Lyra leaned against the wall along with the other men in the room. Then, she began to chant in a foreign language. Lyra felt a chill go up her spine as the room tensed and the flames flickered without a draft.

 _This is real isn't it?_ Lyra asked herself in wonder.

However, when Melissandre was done, she got up and everyone stared at Jon's corpse expectingly. Nothing happened. Jon was still a corpse.

Crestfallen, everyone went back to what they were doing. The red haired wildling named Tormund scoffed and left, Melissandre apologized before leaving, and Lyra sat back down against the wall, stroking Ghost's soft fur for comfort, and began contemplating how she was going to get everyone out of the mess they were currently in.

Everyone had left the room, save for Ser Davos and Lyra, who were currently staring at Jon's body. Giving her an apologetic look, Ser Davos left. Only Lyra remained. Getting up from her spot next to a sleeping Ghost, Lyra was going to find Ser Addam so that they may obtain Jon's body and burry him... _somewhere_. They could figure out the details later, but right now, they needed to get out.

Walking through the doorway, Lyra looked back at Jon one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry." She was sorry that she wasn't there to save him from those treasonous murderers, she was sorry that he didn't get to see his last living sibling before he died, and she was sorry that the magic to bring him back didn't exist. Staring the walk down the hall, Lyra heard someone take a deep breath and start heaving as if they had been drowning until now.

Quickly turning around, Lyra nearly fainted at what she saw: Jon, sitting up, sweating and confused, but _alive_.

"Ser Davos!" Lyra screamed as loud as she could for the Onion Knight before rushing, no, _running_ , to Jon.

Trying to calm the shaking Jon Snow, Lyra took her cousin's face into her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Jon! Jon! It's me! It's Lyra! You're going to be okay!" She was trying not to shout, as not to frighten him further, but she was almost as shocked as Jon. "Ser Davos!" She yelled again.

Running back to the room, Ser Davos couldn't believe his eyes. Though he thought that Melissandre's magic might work, he still had his reservations. The sight before him left him with no doubts any longer. Throwing his cloak onto the naked Jon Snow, he tried to help warm the man while Lady lannister tried to calm him.

After a time, after all, Jon _did_ just come back to life after being dead for a day, they finally calmed Jon and got him warm enough to speak. Jon gasped and breathed heavily as he looked at his stab wounds, which were now looking as if they were beginning to heal, he tried to get up from the table, only to fall.

Before Jon could hit the ground, Ser Davos grabbed him and pulled him back up onto the table. "Easy, easy," Davos told him. "What do you remember?"

Lady Melissandre came running back in looking just as surprised and amazed as Lyra and Ser Davos.

Catching his breath and calming his breathing, Jon affirmed what they knew; Thorne and his men stabbed Jon to death for allowing the Wildlings into Castle Black. "Olly..." Jon stared off sadly. "He put a knife in my heart," he added, hurt by the lad's betrayal. Looking at Lyra and Ser Davos, Jon told them shakily, "I shouldn't be here."

Ever since the death of Prince Rhaegar and his family, Lyra stopped believing in the Gods. If the Gods were good and just and real, then how could the deaths of innocents and the death of a Prince who would have been the greatest King Westeros had ever seen be justified and allowed to happen? Though Lyra herself had begged the witch to try her magic, deep down, Lyra didn't believe that it would work, yet here they all were; Jon was alive and Lyra had nearly soiled herself in shock.

Shaking her head, Lyra affirmed to her cousin, "No, you _shouldn't_ be here." Nodding her head, she added, shaking; "but you _are_." Truth be told, Lyra _still_ didn't believe in the Gods, even after _this_ ; however, she could now say that she believed in magic and everything Ser Davos had told her.

Regaining her bearings, Melissandre assaulted Jon with her own questions: "Afterwards, after they stabbed you, after you died, where did you go? What did you see?"

Everyone tensely waited for an answer before Jon finally spoke. "Nothing. I saw nothing at all," he sadly replied, still shaking.

Leaning down so that she was eye level with Jon, Melissandre seemed to regain her belief when she spoke; "The Lord brought you back for a reason. Stannis was not the prince who was promised, but someone _has to be_." She was implying that this prince was Jon.

Asking Lyra and Melissandre to leave, Ser Davos wanted to speak to Jon; however, Lyra refused, and Davos was so eager to speak with Jon that he relented.

"You were dead, now you're live," Ser Davos started.

"Which is _fucking mad_ ," Lyra added. "Magic shouldn't exist. Especially not of this kind!"

"Aye," Davos agreed, "so I can only imagine how shocked _you are_."

Still shocked, Jon began to tell Davos and Lyra about what happened. About how the White Walkers were coming, bringing the Long Night with them. Explaining that he let the "Free Folk", as they preferred to be called, into Castle Black with the hopes that they'd help when the time came to fight the things that were only supposed to be in fairytales. And how he was murdered for it...

"I'm back now...Why?"

Ser Davos and Lyra looked at one another for an answer. "I don't know. We'll probably never know," Davos finally said. "What does it matter?" He added. "You go on, for as long as you can, and you clean up as much of _this shit_ as you can."

Jon looked at Ser Davos and Lyra both; "I don't know how to. I thought I did, but I died. I failed," he stated, defeated.

Knitting her brows together thoughtfully, Lyra told her cousin, "Yes, you failed; but you've been given a second chance. You died for the Wall..." Was all she could get out.

"Yer cousin is right," Davos agreed. "Now it's time to go fail again somewhere else."

* * *

 **Next: Jon executes his last command as Lord Commander, Sansa and Brienne get to Castle Black, the three Starks re-unite again to face the Boltons, and Jaime is finally able to leave King's Landing with the rest of the Lannister army.**


	28. Chapter 28: An Ending and A Beginning

**Chapter 28: An Ending and A Beginning**

Though she had witnessed it herself, the whole thing still felt as surreal to Lyra as it did to Ser Addam, Arienne, and Myrcella. Watching Jon hang the men for his own murder, Lyra could only quietly watch like everyone else who was present; which was everyone. News got around Castle Black fast apparently.

The men who were speaking kept saying things like: I saw him die; it's unnatural; he was dead and now he's back...how?

Ser Addam, who had personally seen Jon's corpse with Lyra, and even checked for a pulse that hadn't existed on Jon's ice skin, couldn't believe what he was seeing. As soon as he saw Jon walking about the castle, he walked up to Lyra's cousin, grabbed the man's wrist, and checked for a pulse. Bewildered at how Jon now had a pulse and his skin was as warm as his own, Addam looked as if he'd seen a ghost and walked away repeating, "He was dead, now he's alive...he was dead, now he's alive."

If Lyra hadn't been in such shock herself, she would have laughed at Ser Addam's reaction; however, it paled in comparison to Tormund's.

Upon seeing Jon, Tormund told the newly resurrected man that everyone things he's a God, but that he knew he wasn't because "A God wouldn't have a pecker that small". It was crude like everything Tormund was, but that's when Lyra lost it and fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Of which was both out of hilarity of Tormund's words to Jon and the fact that Lyra thought she herself had gone mad. She still couldn't believe what had happened either.

After the men and the lad, Olly, were hung to death when Jon cut the rope supporting the beam with Long Claw, everyone, including Lyra who had seen many executions, winced as the men and the lad slowly died; their necks did not break as everyone was expecting. Almost as if fate itself was punishing their treachery.

When it was all over, Ed suggested that they burn the bodies so that they didn't come back as wights. To which Jon took off his mantle and gave it to Ed, telling him that his watch was over and that _he_ was now the Lord Commander. Taking Jon's mantle, Dolorous Ed could only stare as Jon walked away saying, "My watch has ended," while Lyra, Addam, Arienne, and Davos followed him to discuss their next move.

Lyra offered to let Jon come with her; " You died for the Night's Watch; officially, your watch is over." Grabbing his hand, she added, "We _need_ good swordsmen to help us get South, and there will _always_ be a place for you as far as I'm concerned."

"Aye, and then your husband will behead me as a deserter the moment he sees me."

That was when Lyra realized that wherever Jon went, he couldn't go with her.

"I saw you resurrected myself!" Lyra argued, "So did Ser Addam! I'm sure that together, we could convince Jaime to-"

"I'm sorry Lady Lannister, er, Lyra, but you _know_ that would be unwise. I seriously doubt that Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, believes in the Gods, let alone magic."

Crestfallen, Lyra asked what he would do then.

"Get warm," he responded. "I was at this place called Hardhome, a sort of capitol for the Free Folk. I fought the White Walkers there, _we_ fought them there," Jon added, looking at Edd and Tormund. "We lost." He finished sadly. "Lyra, when you go back, tell your husband about what happened here. How you witnessed it first hand. The Long Night is coming for us all," Jon told her darkly.

"Would they dare come to a place as hot as Dorne?" Princess Arienne asked fearfully yet dignified.

"I'm afraid that they bring the Winter and the cold with them Princess," Jon assured her.

"So that's it then?" Edd asked angrily. "You're leaving us to face those _fucks_ alone? After pledging to guard the Wall? _For all nights to come_?"

"Yes, Edd," Jon told the new Lord Commander firmly. "I _died_ for the Wall, killed by my own brothers. How can I stay after that?"

Dolorous Edd was about to argue back when a horn blew.

Fearing that it was the Boltons, Lyra ran to the window; however, instead of seeing horror, she saw something, or rather, someone who she thought she'd never see again. Without a second thought, she ran out the door to meet the party that had just arrived.

* * *

Brienne tied a piece of cloth on her bleeding hand while they waited for the gates of Castle Black to open. She had her reservations about taking lady Sansa to a place where rapers and murders lived, but Jon was Lord Commander. After traveling through the North and witnessing the atrocities at the hands of the Boltons and their allies, she realized that Lyra had been right: the Wall was the safest place for Sansa.

As Pod and Lady Sansa rode into the courtyard with her, Brienne unconsciously put her hand on Oathkeeper. Especially when she saw the rather crudely dressed and unshaven man with red hair and a matching beard give Brienne a strange look.

Dismounting, Sansa rubbed her cheek where a bruise had formed from her daring escape with Theon from the Boltons. Looking around, she was hoping to see her half-brother, Jon, but he was nowhere to be found among the men currently staring at her, which was beginning to unnerve her. However, a woman with plaited dark hair wearing a dark fur cloak burst through one of the doors. Upon seeing this, Brienne instinctively started to pull out Oathkeeper until Sansa stopped her; she recognized this woman. Dark hair and eyes with olive skin and wearing a torn tunic with a sword at her hip, she was much thinner than Sansa remembered her, but the woman rushing towards her was unmistakably her cousin Lyra.

"Sansa!" Lyra didn't even stop running before embracing her long lost cousin. "Gods you're alright!"

Jon, following his cousin who had practically bolted out to the courtyard, saw Lyra hugging and crying with a woman with Tully red hair. Walking down to the courtyard himself, Jon thought that surely he must be dead.

When Lyra and Sansa finally released each other, Lyra had a thousand questions for her cousin, but that completely left her mind when she saw Sansa. Jon was walking down towards them with the same bewildered expression Sansa currently wore on her face.

Lyra smiled to herself and nearly cried again when she saw Sansa and Jon embrace. They likely thought they'd never see one another again.

* * *

Bronn had only been back in King's landing with Jaime for a day and a half, and now they were headed to the Twins. Jaime had all of the soldiers and Lannister knights in a tizzy; the same day they got back, Jaime was telling his men, who weren't even remotely ready to travel, that they were to leave for the Twins the next day.

 _Fuckin' Lannisters. Always getting into trouble,_ Bronn thought to himself. His back and his ass already hurt from their boat trip, and trotting on a horse wasn't making things better. Most of the men didn't have horses, Lady Lannister's army had most of them at the Twins, and Bronn could tell that Jaime was frustrated that his men couldn't go any faster. They were actually having to move at less that half the pace Lyra and her 2,000 men had gone due to multiple factors: one, they had 4,000 men; two, most of their men were on foot.

At the horizon, Bronn saw Jaime galloping back atop Honor. If his back and ass weren't hurting him so badly right now, Bronn would have actually had some sympathy for the man. Jaime hadn't been sleeping or eating much ever since he heard about Lyra's sudden trip to the Twins without giving a reason. However, Jaime had Bronn running around like a mad man trying to get the lads to pack up for the trip faster, so Bronn's sympathy was quite limited at the moment.

"Before you say it again, I'm cutting to the quick; the men are going as fast as they can, and I'm _sure_ that your lady wife is _fine_ ," Bronn told Jaime irritably when he rode up to him.

"She's _not fine_. She wouldn't send a letter like that if she _was fine_ ," Jaime grumbled back to Bronn.

Watching Jaime put a hand through his hair, something Bronn noticed he did when he was worried or frustrated. "Listen, she survived being poisoned and slapped the shit out of your sister," Bronn offered. "Not only that, but she can handle herself with a sword, _and_ she has 2,000 soldiers traveling with her," he added. "She's _fine_. Don't worry about her until there's something to actually worry about. For all we know, she could have gotten sick or simply decided that the Twins was a safer place to stay."

"This isn't like her Bronn," Jaime snapped back at him. He was getting tired and that tended to make him irritable. Before riding off with his group of knights ahead of the army, he added, "Tell the men that we're not stopping. We're riding through the night."

Watching Jaime ride off again, Bronn inwardly groaned. _Fuck me...this shit ain't worth being a knight._

* * *

After giving Sansa the rest of the day to rest and clean herself up, she joined Jon, Lyra and Princess Arienne for supper just before night fell. Lyra and Arienne agreed that the less the Lannisters and Myrcella know about Sansa, the better. They didn't want much if any information about Sansa getting back to Cersei.

"The soup is good," Sansa said, finishing her bowl. This earned her a look from Edd and Lyra.

"What are you talking about? It's only broth; the soup's bloody awful," Lyra and Arienne laughed.

Despite herself, she was grateful just to have warm food in her stomach, Sansa smiled. Her first genuine smile in a while too. "You don't really sound all that Dornish anymore," she turned to Lyra. "It's also claimed that Jon rose from the dead and quit the Night's Watch. Not to mention the fact that the Lannisters and the Dornish have now joined forces. Winter _is_ really coming," she added wistfully, thinking of her father.

Everyone fell sober and silent, however, when Sansa and Jon began recalling their childhood at Winterfell. Their laughter at Old Nan's horrid kidney pies soon turned into dark commiseration when Jon mentioned that the Stark children should have never left Winterfell. Sansa regretted being horrible to Jon during their childhood just because he was a bastard and that she was thoughtlessly emulating Lady Stark.

Lyra closed her eyes, feeling guilty over being hurt by the fact that none of those memories included her. Looking at Sansa and Jon and how they spoke of Winterfell and the North, Lyra was beginning to wonder something she had wondered about since she headed North; where did she belong? Did she belong anywhere?

 _I grew up in Dorne, but I was born a Stark of Winterfell. Though I know the Dornishmen better, they always expected me to go to the North; yet I don't belong here either._ The North, the one place Lyra had been dreaming of taking back as her homeland, was now such a foreign place to her. Though Lyra had some good memories in this place, that's all they were: _memories_. The more Lyra thought about it and the more she heard Jon and Sansa speak so fondly of the North as _their home_ , the more she realized that the North was never her home; and it quit _feeling_ like her homeland since the day Prince Doran had her reject Robb's proposal.

Feeling that they should leave, Lyra nudged Arienne. After both women excused themselves, Jon and Sansa continued.

"We were children," Jon tried.

"I was awful, just admit it," Sansa smiled. It was a regretful smile.

Jon had to laugh before admitting to her that she was _occasionally_ awful to him for being a bastard. However, he also added that to be fair, he couldn't have been much fun to be around seeing as he was usually sulking if he wasn't training with Robb or Arya or even Lyra.

"Forgive me?" Sansa asked Jon.

He shook his head, "There's nothing to forgive." Upon her laughing and insistence that there was something that needed to be forgiven, Jon relented. Thinking Sansa must be thirsty, he handed her his ale. It was only after she sipped it and coughed as if it were poison that Jon forgot to tell her how rough the ale was.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Should have warned you, but you'd think that after two thousand years the Night's Watch would be able to at least make decent ale."

"Where will you go?" she asked him. It seemed that Jon was being asked that question a lot these days.

"Where will _we_ go," he corrected her. If Jon didn't watch over his last remaining sister, he feared that Lord Stark's ghost would come back and haunt him. And after his own brothers killed him, he couldn't stay here, nor could Sansa. "Lyra and Princess Arienne have offered to take us South with them," Jon offered.

"I can't go South," Sansa's face falling as she said so. "Lyra can try her best to keep us safe," she added. "She could even die trying to keep us safe, but nothing in this whole world can keep me safe anymore. Especially if I leave the North." Cersei surely had a bounty on her, and she doubted that Jaime's love for Lyra could save Sansa from being given to the Crown for Joffrey's murder. However, they couldn't be fugitives in the North forever, which left them only one place to go: Home.

"Do you think that Lyra and Princess Arienne will allow their forces to fight with us to take back Winterfell?" Sansa asked Jon.

"I think so," Jon replied. "Princess Arienne and Myrcella and Lyra are all eager to go South, even if it means that they have to fight the Boltons. Lyra's called up her two thousand Lannister soldiers to come to her aid because the Boltons are threatening to flay them on site."

Pausing for a moment, Sansa asked why Princess Myrcella was with them. She was also concerned that Cersei would be sending an army to bring her daughter back and recapture Sansa in the process.

Jon assured Sansa that she had nothing to fear about the Princess or the Queen. Leaning in, he added, "Lyra wants to keep you safe. That's why she hasn't allowed her soldiers or Princess Myrcella to come near you." Sansa looked relieved at this news.

"She was good to me when I was in the Capitol," Sansa spoke of Lyra. "She said that she wouldn't _ask_ Jaime if I could come to the Rock with them; she said she was going to _tell_ him that I was coming." Jon and Sansa both had a laugh at Lyra's fighting spirit and willfulness; which made them sad as this reminded them of Arya.

"We _have_ to take back Winterfell," Sansa concluded. "It's the seat of the _Starks_ not the _Boltons._ It's our home, and Arya's and Bran's and Rickon's, wherever they are. We _all_ need a place to go home to."

"What do you suggest? Asking the Boltons to pack up and leave? Lyra said that she and Arienne had the Dreadfort burnt to the ground in retaliation to the Boltons for taking you and threatening them. They will fight just as hard as we will for Winterfell," Jon surmised.

"We Fight for it."

"With what army?"

"Lyra's for starters; though she's married into House Lannister, she's _still a Stark_. Legally, if Winterfell is anyone's, it's her's since the rest of us have been branded traitors by the Crown," Sansa started. "How many Wildlings did you save?"

"First, how do you know that Lyra will _give_ us Winterfell?" Jon started. "Second, the Free Folk didn't come here to serve me."

"Lyra's interest in Winterfell died with Robb. Believe me, when she heard that none of her sons or daughters would be taking her ancestral seat, she barely flinched," Sansa explained. "Even if she does want it, she can't hold it. Lyra's a Stark in name and that's about the extent of it; she grew up in Dorne and she doesn't know the Northmen well enough to hold the North. Also, she's _Lady Lannister_ , she has Casterly Rock to take care of, _and_ she's much more concerned with her business South, which could take years."

"And the Free Folk? They bow to no-one."

"Yes," Sansa conceded, "but you saved their lives. _You died for them_. They owe you their lives." Sansa concluded.

They continued to argue back and forth until Sansa gave him an ultimatum; "Until we take Winterfell, we'll never be safe. And if you won't help me, then I'll take it myself."

The next morning, Jon and Sansa broke their fast with Lyra and Princess Arienne, who made Tia bring food to Princess Myrcella as she feared that she'd be lonely, along with Tormund, Dolorous Edd and Brienne.

Wolfing her food down, she wasn't sure if it was her lifted mood or what that was making her so hungry, Lyra couldn't help but to gawk at how Tormund kept staring at Brienne. He was even chowing down on a bird in such a way that Lyra knew that the wild man was trying to court Brienne in his own strange way. Something Dolorous Edd noticed as well considering that he and Lyra both raised an eyebrow at this. Brienne must not be courted often, which didn't surprise Lyra given the woman's grossly inelegant appearance and height, as she simply looked at Tormund as if he were a creepy crazy man she didn't want to get too close to when he smiled at her.

To say that the atmosphere at the table was awkward was an understatement. Ser Addam already disapproved of Lyra simply leading and fighting along side his men; he especially disapproved of a high born lady like Brienne wearing full armor and carrying a longsword, dressing and acting like a man. Though Tormund was trying to be flirtatious with Brienne, he was coming across as creepy. Pod seemed a little terrified of Ser Addam, who kept staring him down with disapproval overtime the young man looked up from his plate. Princess Arienne and Lyra kept nervously looking back and forth at Sansa and Addam, worried that he might try taking her prisoner. Jon and Edd simply kept looking at each other not exactly knowing what to do.

 _What a group of misfits we make: Lannisters, Martells, Starks, and Wildlings._ Lyra couldn't help but to think.

Suddenly, a brother barged in and said he had a message for the Lord Commander. Edd, not used to his new post yet, kept looking at Jon until he reminded him that _he_ was now Lord Commander. The brother gave it to Edd, who, upon seeing the Bolton's seal, gave it to Jon, who reluctantly took it. When Jon began to read it, everyone at the table stopped what they were doing.

 _To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow,_

 _You allowed thousands of_ _Wildlings past the Wall._

 _You have betrayed your own kind, you have betrayed the North._

 _Winterfell is mine bastard. Come and see._

Jon, Sansa, and Lyra exchanged worried looks before Jon continued.

 _Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon. His dire wolf's skin is on my floor. Come and see._

 _I want my bride back._

 _I want the Dornish and Lannister scum who destroyed my ancestral home. They will not be leaving the North with their heads or their skin._

 _Send my bride and the scum to me, bastard, and I will trouble you and your wildling lovers no more._

 _Keep any of them from me and I will ride North and slaughter every Wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection._

 _You will watch as I skin them living along with your traitor Lannister cousin, her cousin the Princess of Dorne, and everyone in their company._

 _You-_

Jon stopped there, looking at Sansa, Lyra, and Arienne in fear. Wanting to hear the rest, Sansa grabbed the parchment from her brother and continued:

 _You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister._

 _You will watch as I personally rape your cousin and her cousin._

 _You will watch as I will allow my soldiers take turns with them._

 _You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother._

 _Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest._

 _Come and see._

 _Ramsey Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North._

Sansa finally finished the grotesque letter, visibly angry.

Arienne's face went white in fear.

Lyra looked at Ser Addam, who stood and asked, "What are your orders Lady Lannister?"

"Ready the men," she responded. "and rouse the Dornishmen to ready as well," she added upon Arienne's nod of approval; she couldn't even form words at the moment.

Once Ser Addam left, Lyra rose and addressed everyone at the table; "If it's a fight Ramsey wants, then it's a fight for his life he will be getting."

"You'll help us regain Winterfell? Even though I'm a fugitive of the Crown," Sansa asked her cousin.

"Sansa, I'm hurt. You didn't really think that we'd simply leave the North without giving Winterfell back to the Starks did you?"

Arienne added fiercely, "Let's show the Boltons what happens when you fuck with the Martells."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry about the humor in this chapter! I love Dolorous Edd and I ship Tormund and Brienne so I had WAY too much fun in some part of the chapter.**

 **Next: Sansa, Jon, and Lyra try to garner support for their cause, Ser Dezial looks for a traitor among them, Ser Addam goes South to redirect the Lannister army, and Arienne finally confronts Myrcella.**


	29. Chapter 29: The Lone Wolf

**Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving everyone! (I'm from the US)**

 **Sorry, but I have to cook, so this is a rough draft.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 29: The Lone Wolf**

Sending ravens first to garner support to face the Boltons, House Mazin was the only house to send them men; so they decided that they should go and ask in person for support from other Northen house. Sansa suggested that they head to Bear Isle first since the Mormonts were one of House Stark's most staunch supporters. Lyra and Jon agreed that it would be best if she, along with the 2,000 Free Folk and around 1,200 Lannister-Martell forces and Princesses Arienne and Myrcella, stay in The Gift since it was under the control of the Night's Watch led by Dolorous Ed. Also, they were likely to garner more support if the Northern lords didn't see the free Folk, Lannisters or Martells, with whom Northern relations were generally not good.

The Free Folk, Lannisters, and Martell forces ended up segregating themselves from one another, though their camps were generally connected and culminated in one large camp.

Trying to kill time, and finally finishing her new tunic, Lyra tried it on. It fit just like her old tunic except the slits began at her waist for better mobility. From the combat she'd seen in the North, the slits of her tunic ripped higher anyways. Lyra also took this opportunity to also show her solidarity with her husband's house. Instead of black like the old tunic, she had a silver Stark dire wolf emblazoned on the front on a crimson field like House Lannister.

Due to her being a Stark, but ultimately loyal to House Lannister, as well as her ferocity in battle, the men had begun to call Lyra "The Lannister's Lone Wolf". Initially, Lyra disliked the nickname because it indicated to her that she didn't really belong _anywhere_ , however, after being told by Lord Mazin that her fighting style reminded him much of Brandon's, she began to embrace the nickname. If she was going to be known as the Lone Wolf of House Lannister, then she felt her garb should reflect that name.

After a couple of days, the other forces began arriving along with Sansa and Jon.

"Where will you be going next?" Lyra asked her cousins. Sansa and Jon looked at each other briefly before Jon answered that these men were all they had. They had just over half the amount of men, not including the rest of Lyra's 2,000 Lannister men, that Sansa said Ramsey had boasted of.

They _still_ didn't have enough men. So they were banking on Lyra's men to reach Winterfell in time.

Traveling down towards Winterfell from The Gift, Ser Davos said that he knew of a good, strategic spot that Stannis had used before his death. This earned him a look of disapproval from Brienne, who was begrudgingly traveling, relatively peacefully, with the Red Woman and Ser Davos.

After setting up camp, they'd thankfully arrived before nightfall, Lyra decided to relax in her tent, as did everyone else. They'd been traveling at a break-neck pace since Jon and Sansa arrived with re-enforcements and everyone was exhausted.

Taking off her fur cloak, one of her men came in to offer her rabbit stew. Taking the stew and thanking the soldier, she asked his name. "Ser Gidyen," he said. He was knighted by Tywin Lannister himself when they fought the Starks at the Battle of the Camps. Stomach rumbling, Lyra smelled the soup. It smelled good, but there was something a little off about it. Getting a suspicious feeling from Gidyen, Lyra asked him to sit with her. Initially he refused, but upon her insistence, he sat down with her at the small table. Making small talk, Gidyen told her than he was one of the first of the 200 men to volunteer to go North with her.

"You should try the stew my lady, it's actually not bad." Throughout the entire time they were making small talk, Gidyen kept urging her to eat the stew, which was beginning to make Lyra suspicious of the man; especially considering the fact that he had only taken off his helm and not his sword. After talking a little more, he told her that he was one of Queen Cersei's guards back in King's Landing for a time.

"I _must_ insist that you try the soup Lady Lannister," he insisted again. Lyra feeling _very_ suspicious now, stared him down for a second before looking down and seeing that his hand was on the handle of his sword as if he were about to strike. As she saw he was about to pull out his sword, quickly and almost without thinking, Lyra pulled her knife out and stabbed the man between the chest plate and shoulder plates of his Lannister armor.

With Gidyen, screaming in agony, Lyra was wondering, _Where the fuck are the guards?!_

Gidyen, recovering from the non-fatal blow blow, began reaching for his sword. Lyra quickly grabbed Night's Queen and hacked his sword arm off.

"What in the Seven Hells?!" Ser Addam came into the tent just then to see Lyra with a bloody Night's Queen in her hand and a Lannister knight with his arm cut off, writhing in pain.

"He tried to kill me," Lyra shouted at the stunned knight. "Help me with him!" She commanded as she grabbed the traitor and began to drag him out of her tent.

Dragging the heavy man out of her tent was not easy for Lyra, despite that he was now missing an arm. The guards who were supposed to be at her tent were asleep. Ser Addam, angry, kicked them awake. "Wake up you sorry sons of whores!"

Taking the man to Ser Addam's tent, they began to interrogate him after crudely cauterizing his arm before he bled to death. Having a couple of soldiers strip and tie him naked, Lyra dismissed them so that she and Addam could interrogate the traitor.

Getting a chair, Lyra sat infant of him. "Who sent you to kill me?" Lyra asked; her voice so cold it could chill an ice spider.

"What makes you think I'll talk, _whore?!_ He spat back.

Wipping her face of the spittle, Lyra asked again, but only got the same answer. Then, she had an idea; spending so much time reading about Kings and Queens and battle tactics from the age of seven had given her many ideas on how to interrogate. However, she had no intention on letting this man live. Nor did she intend to allow such a man speak to her in such a manner.

Taking a leaf out of the Bolton's book on interrogation, Lyra asked Addam for a knife and cut the traitor's finger off.

After he was done shrieking in pain, she told him; " _Personally, I find flaying to be barbaric, however, the Boltons have done a very good job at refining it; and trust me, they like to make it laaast,"_ Lyra drug out the last word for effect. "Insult me or my mother like that again and you'll lose more than a finger," she said as she trailed the knife down his belly to his groin.

Whimpering but trying not to show fear, the man told her that it was all the same. He didn't expect to live past tonight anyways.

"Well, you're right about that," Lyra coldly mocked. "Tell me who sent you and I will give you a clean death, _or_ I could tie you to a horse and send you to the Mad Dog. I heard that flaying cowardly men living is a hobby of his," she added nonchalantly. " _Or_ ," Lyra paused to keep the man squirming in fear as he imagined all of the horrific deaths that could be his fate. Crouching so they were eye level, Lyra began to tell him a story about how the Dornish used to handle traitors who tried to assassinate the Princes or Princesses of Dorne; "The Martells used to allow their soldiers to beat a man to death. I've read multiple accounts of this, and guess how it usually ends."

Blood loss making him weak, he weakly asked her how.

"It can take quite a while for a man to die this way. Usually, the loyal soldiers start by ripping an arm off. Sometimes they even cauterize it so that you don't bleed out and die too soon. Then, they tend to carve your mouth into a smile so that as you're screaming in agony you are caused further pain and you yourself tear from your lips to your cheeks. Sometimes, they'll start skinning your face before they begin to slowly kill you in anyway they please."

Hearing her men outside the tent, news must have traveled fast among the Lannister men that one of the knights tried to kill their lady. Wanting Gidyen to know that her men were loyal, she paused to let the man listen.

 _Where's the sorry bastard who tried to kill Lady Lannister?!_

 _Give him to us!_

 _We'll gladly kill him for you Lady Lannister!_

"Hear that? That's the sound of loyal men who are just itching to get their hands on you. Now, I'm just a lady and I did this to you. Imagine what horrible ways seasoned soldiers could kill you." She added, "Especially those soldiers who volunteered to come with me out of loyalty to House Lannister."

"Alright! Alright!" The man screamed in terror. "It was Queen Cersei! She told me that you were a Stark- a danger to House Lannister-and that if I was truly a proud and loyal soldier of the Lannister army, then I should come with you and kill you when I had the opportunity."

Lyra thanked him before calling for the guards to come and take him to the center of the Lannister camp. Going back to her tent to grab Night's Queen, Lyra remembered Ned's words when he performed executions.

 _The Stark way is the old way. The man who passes the sentence should also be the man to carry out the execution. Your grandfather did it, and in his absence, your father did it too._

Downing the sour goats milk that Tormund had been so kind as to let her try earlier, Lyra carried Night's Queen and headed to the center of the camp. Quite a rowdy crowd had gathered to watch the traitor be executed.

Asking if he had any last words, he said, "I am Ser Gidyen, knighted by Lord Tywin himself, I swore an oath to protect my lord and lady, and I betrayed the lady I was sworn to protect by trying to kill her." There was a quiver of fear in his voice, he also sounded as if he were trying not to weep.

Telling him to kneel, the Lannister soldiers who were propping him up, put his head down on the slab. Taking a deep breath, Lyra tried to remember what her uncles said during an execution before she spoke, "Ser Gidyen, for the crime of treason for attempting to kill the Lady of your liege lord and your commander, in the name of House Lannister I sentence you to die." Raising the sword above her head, she finished, "May the Gods have mercy upon your soul Ser Gidyen." Lyra was thankful that she'd just had Night's Queen sharpened. She then brought it down with a much force as she could muster, cutting the traitor's head clean off.

Her rowdy Lannister men fell silent when they watched Lyra cut the man's head off. Walking towards where his head had rolled, she picked his head up by its sandy hair.

"This man not only tried to kill me through poisoning my stew, but he also tried to kill me while I was unarmed. That is the ultimate act of cowardice." Pausing as the Lannister men roared in indignation, Lyra continued, "I understand that many of you have reservations about the fact that I was born a Stark, but I assure you; I may be the Lone Wolf, but I am _House_ _Lannister's Lone Wolf_."

"I am Lady Lannister and you are my soldiers by the command of Lord Lannister. Refusing to follow my orders is treason and you will meet the same fate as this sorry son of a bitch here," Lyra said as she slightly shook the traitor's head. "However, as Lady of House Lannister, I will die for my men; I will die for you. And that day may be coming very soon. Show me the same loyalty and you will be rewarded with mine and Lord Lannister's magnanimity and generosity," she added, dropping the head.

"Who do you fight for?!" Lyra asked her men. She wanted to know just how loyal they were to her.

" _House Lannister!"_

 _"_ And who will lead you into this battle?!"

 _"The Lone Wolf of House Lannister!"_

* * *

 ** _Sorry folks, this isn't it, I have a lot more to add to this chapter before I go on to the next, but I wanted to give everyone a holiday gift before I left to see my family!_**

 **Next: The Stark-Lannister-Martell party treats with the Boltons, and I think you all know what epic battle goes down ;)**


	30. Chapter 30: Battle of the Bastards

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thought I'd post this epic chapter since I'm officially a quarter of a century years old! Here's my birthday gift to you all! :)**

 **Enjoy! ^.^**

* * *

After dawn broke, Jon, Lyra, Sansa, and Arienne rode with several Stark banner men, a couple of Martell and Lannister men, and Lady Lyanna Mormont. It was time to treat with Lord Bolton.

Watching Sansa look wistfully at Winterfell, her childhood home. First invaded and burned by iron born, only to then be invaded by House Bolton and rebuilt. Jon must have seen the swirl of emotion in Sansa's eyes because he told her that she didn't have to be there to treat with Ramsey, but she told him that she had to.

 _Too much has happened here. I'm finally home with my family, at least, what's left of it._ Sansa thought.

As Ramsey and his banner men approached their party, Sansa stiffened and accidentally showed fear when Ramsey addressed her as Lady Bolton. He told her that he was so concerned for her safety, before arrogantly telling Jon, "Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely." He then wanted them all to get down on their knees, swear oaths to him as their liege lord.

"Give up your armies, and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden in the North." The final demand was directed towards Jon and Lyra, who exchanged glances saying how odd and touched in the head Ramsey seemed. When Ramsey saw that they were not going to yield, he offered to pardon the "treasonous Northern Lords" and "Invaders", as well as, allow Jon to return to the Night's Watch.

 _You're not a good negotiator. Roose was a schemer...you're just a Mad Dog._ Lyra had only known the man for a few minutes and it already disgusted her that Winterfell was being taken over by arrogant, mad people. She knew that she should be frightened, but looking at this man...she wasn't sure why...but he reminded her a bit of Joffrey. _Not only does this mad man not even follow up on his own threats that he's made many times; but now, he's trying to bargain with us for Winterfell. I can't allow such a man to take my father's seat!_

As Ramsey tried to negotiate with Jon about how they stood no chance against them without the numbers, Lyra was increasingly unsure how to feel about this situation. Should she be scared? Angry? Sad? Probably all of them. Lyra was more upset over the fact that such an incompetent man with negotiating could garner more support simply by being Warden of the North. Something caught her ear though.

"You're right," Jon conceded, "there's no need for a battle." Lyra felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she saw Jon with a smirk lean forward into the saddle, adding; "Thousands don't have to die: only one of us."

Ramsey's face, visibly dropped when he heard this. He was not expecting this at all and it caught him off guard. Recovering, he laughed off Jon; "He's good! He's _very_ good! But from what I hear, you're the greatest swordsman who's ever lived, _bastard_."

"What's the matter _Mad Dog_ ," Lyra interrupted, "Are you so awful with a sword that you can't actually take on a real man?" She taunted. "Seems the only thing that your man enough to do is to take on helpless girls in the woods hunted by your dogs you swine," she spat. Lyra had heard the rumors about Ramsey's Bitches.

"Lady _Lannister_ ," Ramsey said to Lyra, smiling a devious smile, he added; "Or should I say: Lone Wolf?" His smile dropped and his face fell serious. "I see that you've adopted your husband's house as well as your father's from the looks of you. Does the Kingslayer even know that your here? With _his_ men?"

" _Lord_ Jaime has given me full command of the Lannister army," smirking, Lyra added, "What's the matter _Mad Dog_? Afraid of a woman?"

Ramsey only smiled at her before musing to them all how his dogs are eager to meet them when Sansa interjected.

 _"You're going to die tomorrow Lord Bolton. Sleep well_ ," she added forebodingly before taking off on her horse. Everyone was shocked, particularly Lyra; such a bold move for the girl Lyra once knew. Princess Arienne only smirked at Sansa's boldness.

"See you soon, _bastard_ ," Ramsey and his men turned to leave.

* * *

Finally arriving at the Twins, Jaime dismounted as soon as they got into the gates. One of Lord Walder's sons came to greet him and offered him food and wine, but Jaime pushed past him.

 _Where are my men? And where is Lyra?_

Jaime needed to know what was going on. He expected to see Lannisters when he arrived, but upon seeing nobody, he felt panic set in.

Bursting through the doors to the great hall with Bronn in tow, Jaime caught Lord Walder in the middle of fondling his new young wife, who couldn't be more than seventeen.

"Where is my wife? And my men?"

"Lord Lannister, what a surprise." A surprise clearly as Walder quickly tried to recover from being caught fondling his young wife by his liege lord.

"Where are they? I don't see a single Lannister here." Jaime pressed the wretched man.

"Your lady wife headed North with two hundred of your finest and seems to have gotten 'erself in a bit of trouble," he responded while pulling out a scroll with the unbroken Lannister seal.

Taking the scroll, Jaime read it:

 _Jaime,_

 _If you're reading this and I have not yet returned, please don't worry._

 _We will be back at the Twins as soon as we can._

 _Dorne has fallen to the Sand Snakes. Princess Myrcella and Princess Arienne are alive, but they are not safe._

 _We were duty bound to go and help them._

 _We will return soon._

 _Lyra_

Finishing the letter, Jaime felt his blood boil. "Why wasn't I told immediately?!"

Lord Walder told the girl to go before answering. "One of your men came to retrieve the rest of your army stationed here. They took every last man and refused my help on your lady wife's orders. I hear reports that she and the remaining Starks are garnering support to go up against the traitors House Bolton."

 _Smart_ , Jaime mused. If Lyra was going to get help in her endeavor coming down South safely with everyone, then she was more likely to do so without the help of the Twins. Asking how long ago the army left, Lord Walder told him they left four days ago. Telling Bronn to order the men to turn North before rolling up the scroll and turning on his heel to leave.

"My-my Lord! What about Riverrun?" Walder stood as he saw Jaime abruptly leave.

"Riverrun can wait," Jaime snapped before leaving the great hall.

* * *

Later that night, every leader found his or herself at the war council. They were planning a pincer move, which Tormund didn't understand at first, much to Lyra's amusement. She found herself rather liking the Free Folk thus far. They weren't necessarily bad people; they only did what they thought necessary to survive.

After everyone was dismissed, all but the three Starks left.

Making sure that nobody could hear them, Lyra lowered her voice.

"Jon. Sansa," she began. " _Your_ armies need to be seen taking Winterfell, not the Lannister- Martell forces."

Jon seemed to be taken aback by this; "Lyra? By right, Winterfell is yours once we've taken it. Why are you giving it up?"

This caught Sansa's attention as well.

Lyra smiled to herself, the longer she'd been in the North, the more she'd realized how much she didn't belong in the North. It was time to tell her beloved cousins.

"The North was never meant to be mine the day my father died and my mother couldn't rally the North behind me. I may have spent a good part of my life here, but that was only so that I could marry Robb. Winterfell was always Robb's; it was only mine through marriage to him. I know that now...the Northern houses rallied behind _you two_ , Ned's children. Not Brandon Stark's heir. Not me." Looking at both her cousins, Lyra continued, "As far as I'm concerned, I'm only here and fighting against the Boltons because they have committed treason and the Princess needs to get back to her mother safely." Leaving the tent to go retrieve her army, Lyra added, "Ned Stark's children can have the seat...I'm sure that the two of you can decide who will have it."

Exiting the tent, Ser Addam was waiting for her with horses. If they were going to get out of the North alive, then they needed to get the rest of their army. Ramsey will likely attack in the morning.

* * *

Drinking wine, Tyrion was patiently flipping through Lyra's book with Daenerys so that they both could learn more about her dragons.

"Tell me, why do you have this again?" Queen Daenerys inquired.

"It was given to me by my good sister, Lyra Stark, or rather, Lyra Lannister. She believed me innocent of Joffrey's murder and often came to me during my captivity. She even tried to save me once." Was Tyrion's response.

"I still don't understand..." Daenerys was told that the Starks hated the Lannisters and warred against the Targeryens. Why would her brother give a Stark such a gift?

"You'll have to ask Lyra herself when we get to Westeros. I imagine though that the reason why Rhaegar gifted this to her is because she was his beloved niece."

"Until my father killed hers." Daenerys responded sadly. "Tell me the truth Lord Tyrion, who's alliance do you think we can count on when I get to Westros?"

"Right now? The Starks are not likely, and neither are the Freys. The Tullys perhaps, but they are currently imprisoned. The Greyjoys? Possible. The Tyrells? Not likely seeing as Lady Margeary is vying for queenship herself. The Martells? Likely, but not enough. The Lannisters? A gamble, but I believe that Lyra _might_ be able to convince Jaime under the right circumstances." Daenerys looked at him, _might_. Tyrion knew that Jaime likely wanted Cersei dead out of revenge for the murder of his heir and the attempted murder of Lyra herself.

"And why would Lyra side with me when my father killed hers? She doesn't even know me."

Tyrion sighed and explained, "Despite everything that happened, Lyra greatly admired your eldest brother and still speaks of him fondly. She accepted the marriage proposal to Jaime begrudgingly, but ended up loving him regardless. If she's as smart as I believe she is, then she knows that it's only a matter of time before you arrive with your dragons, and believe me, she _will_ be prepared to either side with you or maintain neutrality."

* * *

Lyra and Ser Addam found the Lannister army stationed near Ironwood around midnight. Collecting them, they raced back to the camps just North of Winterfell; and in good timing, as soon as they arrived, everyone was getting ready for the battle.

"Never had I ever even dreamt that I'd see the day when the Northmen, the Dornish, the Wildlings, and the rest of the Baratheon men would join forces with Lannister men. 'Tis a glorious day indeed." Lyra said this enthusiastically to the stoic knight, Ser Addam, as she got into her armor.

"Lady Lannister, I don't believe that your lord husband will be pleased upon learning of this...betrayal..."

"It's not a betrayal; Queen Cersei wants Lord Bolton dead for his treachery and we _will_ be returning to the Rock. We just took a little detour for the moment. Besides-" Lyra interrupted what she was assuming to be his next protest, "I think you agree that saving the Princess would be forgiven for unseating the Boltons."

When Ser Addam fell silent she then added, "If anyone gets in trouble, I'll take all of the blame, like I said. Don't worry." She finished this last sentence when she saw the immense worry across his face.

"Are you terrified my lady?" Ser Addam asked her.

Lyra showed him her shaking hand, "Of course I'm terrified. We've been in skirmishes, but I've never been in a full blown battle. Especially one in which all of the odds are stacked against us."

"Good, at least you're not stupid then," he said as they left the tent and headed to the battlefield.

Feeling bad that Brightsun couldn't come with her since he wasn't a war trained horse, Lyra went over to him and lightly patted his soft nose. Telling him not to worry because she'd be back soon, Lyra mounted a black horse and rode with Ser Addam. The Lannister-Martell camp had agreed that Lyra and Arienne would wait with auxiliary forces while Ser Addam and Ser Dezial took half their forces to the vanguard with Jon. They would be hiding their extra numbers behind the hill Lyra, Sansa, Arienne, and Myrcella would be on to observe the battle.

As everyone took their places on the hill, they watched as the battle began. Though they were at a distance, they could all still clearly see what was happening in the field before them.

Sansa gasped when Ramsey let a boy run down the field, shooting arrows at him. Lyra saw her eyes begin to water, making them look even more blue, and realized that the boy had to be Rickon. "No Jon! That's his trap!" Sansa cried as Jon mounted his horse and bolted towards the running boy in an attempt to save him.

They all gasped and jumped when Rickon was suddenly hit through his chest. Enraged, Jon urged his horse forward with no men with him before his horse was shot down. Thankfully, Ser Davos had enough sense to send that vanguard after Jon, and the battle was on.

Everyone at the hill could only watch in horror as the battle raged on and men from both sides were shot down and cut down and the bodies piled up. An arrow suddenly flew past Lyra's head, barely missing her. However, what horrified her the most was the fact that the arrow had come from her back, not her front where the battle was. Turning around, Lyra watched as Bolton and Whitehill men began to attack their auxiliary forces.

"Shit!" Looking at her cousins and the Princess, Lyra told them to find safe cover before running full speed into the battle below her. Ridding to the front with the captains, Lyra ordered them to fight, but to protect the hill. After that, _her_ own battle began.

Leading the vanguard of her own auxiliary forces, Lyra cut the head off of the first enemy soldier she came across. Cutting her way through the soldiers with Night's Queen, she heard the clash of men and horses behind her as the rest of the army followed.

Watching as a cloud of arrows flew above her, Lyra only had enough time to throw up her shield as her horse was killed and she was thrown to the ground with the rest of her van.

 _Shit!_

Lyra was unhorsed by the arrows and painfully thrown forward to the ground. Men quickly approaching her, Lyra grabbed Night's Queen and sliced into the first man's head. Everything turned into a blur before her as she began to slice through the men before her, cutting anyone and anything in her path; slicing thighs and tendons, cutting off limbs, decapitating. Lyra's heart raced in excitement again as she painted the valley of the hill with red with blood.

Quickly clearing the soldiers before her, Lyra saw the fuckface at the head of this ambush. There was a man with blonde hair standing smugly at the top of another hill with the Whitehill banners around him.

 _Motherfucker!_

Lyra raged as she grabbed a loose horse and began to cut her way over to cut off the head of these sorry excuses for men. Riding hard, Lyra checked her points and saw two riders approaching her from both sides. She was going to have to dismount; she couldn't fight two men at once on horse back. Getting an idea, she spurred the horse faster and rolled off to allow the three horses to crash. The two men, stunned by being unhorsed, were easy targets for Night's Queen. Finishing them both off, Lyra heard a man behind her. Parrying him, she was thrown to the ground as the man was rather large and strong. Raising his war-hammer for a finishing blow, he was suddenly impaled in the throat by a curved blade before being beheaded with a similar blade. Wiping the blood that had sprayed into her eyes, Lyra saw that her savior was a rather large, tanned woman with green eyes and scars.

"Thank you, whomever you are," Lyra said to the other woman warrior as she got up from the mud.

"Name's Beska," she said curtly.

Suddenly, a group of Whitehill soldiers began riding their way.

"Fuck! Ready to take these son's of whores?!" Beska shouted to Lyra. However, before they could take out the soldiers, they were shot down. Much to the surprise of the female warriors.

As the dust cleared, a man in his twenties with the right side of his face scarred to hell rode to them.

"Beska! I told you to wait," he chided.

"Wait for the perfect chance to kill the _fuck_ who murdered Asher?! Not a chance!"

It took Lyra a second, but she realized who the man was.

"Forrester!" Lyra said incredulously. "Rodrick?" She wasn't sure if she was right or not, but she remembered Lord Greggor Forrester well from her times in Winterfell. They were loyal banner men to house Stark for centuries.

"Lady Lyra?" The Forrester asked unsure.

"Yes! Thank the Gods you've come!" Lyra was so thankful for the reinforcements of the Forresters and the Glennmores that she could have kissed him.

"And thank the Gods _you've come_ ," Rodrick thanked her. "We're here to help the Starks take Winterfell Lady Lannister, but first," he added, looking over at Lord Whitehill, "We're here to help you defeat the Whitehills."

* * *

Fearing he may be crushed to death by his own men, Jon scrambled his way up to the top of his crowded men. Looking around, he found that they had been walled in by bodies behind them and Bolton men around them.

 _Fuck! Lyra where are you?!_

Jon didn't understand, Lyra should have come long before now as reinforcements. Lyra was supposed to lead the auxiliary forces down into the field if they got overwhelmed or if they were close to winning.

 _Something must have happened_ , was the only logical conclusion. Jon doubted that his cousin would abandon her men, let alone her own family; they were the entire reason she was helping them.

Looking around more, Jon saw that One-One was being overpowered, Tormund was being head butted by Small Jon Umber, Ser Addam was attempting to re-organize his soldiers, and Ser Dezial was unsuccessfully trying to break the wall of shields with other Dornishmen. They were losing...

 _Sansa...I've failed you..._

* * *

After the Forresters arrived with their army and the Glennmore's, the battle was essentially won at that point. With Beska and a group of other fierce Essos sellswords, Lyra and Rodrick cut through the auxiliary forces of the Boltons towards Gryf Whitehill.

"Coward!" Lyra screamed at him as he attempted to ride away while having his guards fight her, Rodrick, and Beska. Cutting the men down, Lyra and Beska took their horses, and bolted towards Gryf with Rodrick. Taking the bow that the Whitehill soldier had left on his horse, Lyra aimed and let loose a fury of arrows.

His horse being shot down, Gryf fell hard, crushed by the weight of his horse. He was going nowhere.

Lord Forrester and Beska both ran to him as quickly as they could to finish him. Both of them screaming at the other as to whom had right over the other to kill him.

"He murdered Asher! The only person I ever had who was family!" Beska snarled.

"And he was my brother! Gryf terrified my family!" Roderick shot back.

"Wait!" Lyra stopped them. She reasoned with the two that since Gryf was a coward, he didn't deserve to fall in the blaze of glory of a battle; he deserved to be executed like the coward he was. Lyra encouraged Roderick to make an example of Gryf; Beska to take him prisoner to be executed in front of his men, by Roderick effectively ending the battle between the auxiliary forces.

* * *

Sansa was beginning to regret not sending that letter to Lord Baelish for help. They weren't expecting to be ambushed by Bolton auxiliary forces. Princess Myrcella was loosing hope and wanted to take their chances fleeing South instead of staying. To which Princess Arienne snapped that they'd be dead or worse the moment they crossed Moat Cailin. After that Myrcella just tearfully watched the battle they were currently losing. Truth be told, Sansa pitted Myrcella. Despite the fact that she resembled Cersei so much she could have been a miniature of the Queen, Myrcella was always such a sweet girl. Children didn't deserve to suffer because of the sins of their parents...

Sansa was also beginning to lose hope until she saw a bloodied and dirty Lyra ride up the hill with an Essos woman and Rodrick Forrester. Seeing the Forrester banner men, Sansa's heart lept in joy.

 _I knew Father was right!_ Indeed, when the Starks were at their darkest hour, some of their most loyal banner men had come. Even those who were forced out of their own homes like the Forresters.

"Myrcella! Look! You're aunt!" Sansa told the princess who reminded her so much of herself when she was young and naive too.

Seeing a triumphant Aunt Lyra leading the auxiliary forces to break the Bolton's wall surrounding their main forces, Myrcella felt a wave of relief.

Taking out Night's Queen, Lyra led the charge down the hill and effectively broke the Bolton's wall. Though covered in muck and gore from the first battle, along with a flesh wound from an arrow going through the most outer part of the skin of her calf, Lyra cut through the Bolton men as she led her men through the second battle.

The Bolton's having their line effectively cut, Lyra saw Jon, Torrmund, and Wun-Wun chasing Ramsey towards Winterfell on foot. Finding Ser Addam, who was thankfully alive, she ordered him to start a siege on the castle before she and Lord Forrester rode to catch up to the three men headed for Winterfell. Being a giant and thus, much faster, Wun-Wun was already close to the gates.

"Need a lift?" Lyra asked Jon as she rode up to him. Night's Queen in her right hand, Lyra helped Jon onto the saddle behind her, while Lord Forrester awkwardly helped Tormund onto his saddle behind him. The poor horse was carrying so much weight that it couldn't keep up with Lyra and Jon, even if Lord Forrester was ridding a rather large stallion.

"We'll seige those fucks if we have to, but I'm not leaving Winterfell to the Boltons! Winter fell was built by the Starks and it should always belong to the Starks!" Lyra said to Jon with iron resolve in her voice.

"We may not have to! Look!" Jon was forced to yell at Lyra due to the wind. Looking closer, Lyra saw Wun-Wun breaking down the gates of Winterfell. The Boltons must have seen The four of them nearing the castle gates because Lyra and Jon suddenly saw arrows at their horse's feet. Taking shelter under the battlements from the arrows, they all watched as Wun-Wun broke the gates while being shot by arrows.

Dismounting, Lyra, Lord Forrester, Jon, and Tormund waited for the rest of their army to arrive as Wun-Wun bashed the gates. When the giant finally broke through, the rest of the Stark-Lannister-Martell forces arrived.

Running into the courtyard, Lyra and Jon looked at the giant sadly as he was shot to death by the frightened Boltons. Fun-Wun roared as he was dying. He had sacrificed himself for their cause. Jon stood next to him as his breathing labored, he seemed about to say thank you to the giant for his incredibly selfless sacrifice, when Wun-Wun was tragically shot in the eye. Effectively finishing him off.

Lyra's first instinct was to mourn for Wun-Wun; a sacrifice like that deserved the highest honor to her, but the Boltons had their bows raised, ready to fire. Lyra grabbed the nearest shield instinctively. When Ramsey stopped his men and spoke.

"You wanted one on one combat? Well, I've reconsidered," Ramsey said as he readied his bow before Jon could ready himself. Just like a coward.

Lyra heard herself scream in terror for Jon, who fluidly picked up a discarded Mormont shield and blocked every arrow Ramsey shot. Lord Bolton was clearly going from confident to frightened as Jon advanced upon him, blocking each arrow. Getting close enough to Ramsey, Jon hit the man in his face, breaking his nose and knocking him down.

Lyra was stunned as Jon threw punch after punch at Ramsey's face. He was in a rage, he couldn't stop; it was as if all of his pain over Robb's death at the hands of traitors, poor Sansa's torment at the hands of the man he was currently beating to death, Rickon's death, and Ramsey's threats against all of Jon's only living relatives were in each of those punches.

"Jon!" Lyra tried to stop him. "Jon!" It was as if he couldn't even hear her.

As Jon hit Ramsey Bolton, the smirk on the sick fuck's face only enraged him more. He kept hitting the man until he looked up and saw his sister and his cousin looking at him with horror at his loss of control. Not wanting to frighten anyone further with his lack of control, Jon stopped. Lyra told him that Ramsey wasn't worth it, and Jon, regaining control, realized that she was right. Ramsey was smiling the entire time Jon was beating him because Ramsey knew that he had gotten into Jon's head.

Standing up, Jon ordered his men to take Ramsey into a cell and secure him. Lyra couldn't help but to feel a sense of pride as they tore down the Bolton banners and threw them out of the castle walls along with the Bolton shields. She and Sansa had found some Stark banners in storage and had them hung in the Bolton banner's place.

When the lads brought Rickon's body into the castle walls, the three Starks could only look at him sadly. Jon told his men to bury Rickon in the crypts next to his father, which gave Lyra an idea; she asked Jon if her mother could be buried next to her father as well in the crypts.

"Princess Meria doesn't belong in Winterfell, Lyra," Princess Arienne interjected. Lyra was caught off guard; she had been so busy with Sansa in taking back their ancestral home that she hadn't noticed Myrcella and Arienne enter the castle.

"I know she doesn't, but my mother loved my father. She always spoke of how he was her one true love, and she would have been Lady of Winterfell anyways had my father produced a son" Lyra said to them all sadly. "Besides," she looked down, feeling shame at what she was going to say, "we can't exactly wait for her to be buried at Sunspear. That could take months. _This_ is her best option." Lyra felt tears prick her eyes, she wasn't ready to bury her mother, especially in a place that was never her home; but Lyra felt that her beloved mother should at least have the honor of being buried next to the love of her life.

"But-" Arienne was about to interject again.

"Arienne, she's _my mother_ ," Lyra snapped at her cousin, who immediately backed down upon seeing the fury in her eyes.

Feeling ashamed for snapping at her cousin, who was only trying to look out for her mother's best interests, Lyra apologized. When Jon told her it was okay, Arienne said she would retrieve Meria's body for the Starks so she may be buried next to Lyra's father.

Feeling emotional, Lyra headed to the Godswood for some peace. Sitting on the rock that her lord uncle and father often sat on overlooking the small pool, Lyra took a cloth and dampened it in the water to wipe her face. Washing her hands as well, Lyra leaned back against the tree and felt the overwhelming pain hit her. Allowing tears to finally flow freely, Lyra cried until she couldn't anymore.

* * *

 _Walking through a dark hall, Lyra realized that she was back at the Red Keep. Hearing the caw of a raven, she turned around to see it fly over her and land before her, illuminated by moonlight._

 _"Find the sword!" It cawed._

 _"Who are you?" Lyra asked, approaching the raven._

 _Picking at his feathers as if contemplating whether or not to tell her, the three eyed raven transformed into a young man with silver hair and purple eyes with a red birthmark on his face. Wearing a black tunic with the Targeryen sigil emblazoned on the front, and holding a weir wood bow, Lyra realized who he was._

 _"Brynden Rivers...the Blood Raven," she whispered in awe._

 _Brynden nodded his head; "Find my sword, Lyra Stark, for Winter is coming, and the Long Night comes with it."_

 _"How? I'm nowhere near King's Landing."_

 _"You will find a way, and when you do, you must find my sword."_

 _"But I-"_

 _"Are you listening Lyra Stark? Find my sword!"_

* * *

"Lyra...Lyra!"

Lyra suddenly awoke to Sansa shaking her out of her sleep. Trying to stand up, Lyra grunted in pain; her whole body ached from the battles that had transpired only hours ago. Deciding to sit back down, she asked what was wrong.

"Nothing," Sansa told her as she sat next to her cousin. "Do you plan to leave today?"

"Yes. We must," Lyra got out. "Jaime probably has no idea where I am and I'm sure he's worried, if not, angry at me for riding North and putting myself in danger."

Sansa's face fell at the sudden mention of the Lannisters and Jaime. "Do you really love him? Despite what he's done with his awful sister?" The question had been nagging at Sansa for some time now; how could someone like her cousin love a man like Jaime? The man who bedded such an awful woman like his sister and the same man who acted like an arrogant prick to her father during his stay at Winterfell and as the Hand.

"A valid question," Lyra answered with a smile. "I _do_ love him. Very much actually. And I know that he loves me too."

"How? How could you love a man such as him?"

Lyra looked at Sansa's face, contemplating her answer. "I don't know, Sansa. He's changed though, a lot. He _can_ be a man of honor and he _can_ be a good man. I've seen it, really. I've seen it through the way he loves me and through the way he loves Tyrion. You know, Tyrion is alive because Jaime defied his bitch of a sister." Sansa seemed to have trouble absorbing this information. "Don't worry Sansa, I _won't_ let Cersei come after you, and Jaime won't either. He would never do such a thing that he knows would upset me greatly. Not only that, but he wants nothing to do with Cersei as much as I do." Lyra paused, wondering if she should tell her cousin the reason why Jaime would refuse to help Cersei.

"I'm not worried about Cersei," Sansa said. "I'm sure you're eager to get home to your husband and child, but I must insist that you stay the night. You and your men need to recover for the journey home. You fought two battles today."

The mention of the babe Cersei killed hurt, but not nearly as much as it did; instead of the sharp sting of pain it caused, it now felt more like a scar. A tender spot that never really hurt anymore. "Cersei...she killed my babe and almost killed me in the process with moon tea." Lyra told her quietly.

At this, Sansa's mouth dropped in shock, and embraced her cousin. She told her how sorry she was that she lost her babe, especially to someone as monstrous as Cersei. Lyra thanked her and told her not to worry; maester Pycelle told her that she could have more children.

"What are you going to tell the Crown when they ask why you helped destroy the Boltons and the Starks have regained Winterfell?"

"Well, first, Cersei no longer has any power at the moment because she's currently imprisoned by the Faith Militant. Margeary is now queen, and she wants my alliance, so I doubt she will have anything to say." Sansa looked shocked to learn this information, but also savored a smug smile at the thought of Cersei's imprisonment. "I suppose I'll tell them the same thing that I've been telling my men and Myrcella; we went North to see if Myrcella had been saved when the Sand Snakes took Dorne, the Boltons threatened to flay us living for marching North to save her, the Boltons became our common enemy, and we left Winterfell in the hands of the Starks because there was no way in the seven hells the Northern lords would allow us to take you to 'the Crown's justice'".

After Sansa thanked Lyra for all of her help with the Lannister and Martell army, the two Stark women fell into silent contemplation. The godswood held many memories for both women. Remembering something funny, Sansa began to laugh; she remembered when Mother caught Lyra and Robb laying down fully clothed in the Godswood, sharing a passionate kiss when he was sixteen. Lady Stark had been quite furious at Robb because she thought he was going to try bedding his betrothed before they were actually married and offend the Gods. Then, there was the time Arya got angry with Sansa because she told her that she was too little to ride her mare and pushed her into the pond. Both girls burst out laughing at how serious that was at the time, yet how absurd it seems now.

Sansa sighed contently as their laughter died down. "I thought I'd never see home again." Truly, Sansa believed that she would die in King's Landing until Lyra came. "By the way, I never thanked you for looking after me at that terrible place."

Lyra put her hand on her cousin's shoulder; "You never need to thank me for that Sansa. You and Jon are my family and I love you both." Embracing Sansa, she told her, "I may be a Lannister now, but there will always be a Stark dire wolf in me. You and Jon will _always_ be my family, and I will _always_ protect you."

Sansa was touched, Lyra had always been tough, but nobody ever doubted her love for her family. However, Lyra seemed to have developed a more emotional and tender side that Sansa had never seen before.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Phew! That was long! Sorry for the sappy cousin scene between Lyra and Sansa, but after such a gritty battle showing everyone's bloodlust, I felt that the end should show how tender the characters can actually be. They're humans too! I also wanted to highlight the importance of family and loyalty in this chapter because to me, that's what the Battle of the Bastards was all about in the end.**

 **Sorry if the flow seemed a bit rushed, but there was A LOT that had to be put in this chapter.**

 **BTW, how did everyone feel about my inclusion of the Forresters? I wish I had included them earlier!**

 **Next: More Forresters and Lyra reunites with Jaime.**


	31. Chapter 31: Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Author's Note: Sorry** **everyone! Last week was exceptionally tough emotionally. I've decided to ultimately finish _this_ fic, but I will occasionally update and post new chapters for my re-write. The re-write is quite different from this one, so you should all still find it entertaining. Thank you to Guest for pointing out the similarities, and thank you Melmela, KortneyBreeAnne and Lucaxxx for the support!**

 **On with the show!**

* * *

 **Chapter 31: Home Is Where the Heart Is**

Still covered in a thin layer of blood and muck from the morning's battle, Lyra watched as her mother's corpse was entombed with her father's for all eternity. _I'm sorry mother. It's the least I can do for you now though_ , Lyra thought, grieving. She'd felt on the verge of tears when they took little Rickon's body down, but neither Jon nor Sansa shed a tear for their fallen brother. Instead, they chose to retain their dignified, mournful composure throughout the entire process, so Lyra felt she should too. All three Starks held themselves in a dignified manner, putting on Uncle Ned's "Lord Stark" face.

Before the men re-covered Brandon Stark's and Meria Martell's tomb, Lyra asked to have a moment alone with her mother's body. Princess Arienne was about to protest when Sansa came to Lyra's rescue; taking the princess's arm, Sansa asked her to stroll the outside for a time. Jon and the other men took the opportunity to take a break outside. Making sure that she was alone, Lyra felt fresh tears stream down her face. She was thankful that most of the copious amounts of kohl she'd used on her eyes to make herself look more fearsome for battle had already come off due to sweat and blood.

Kneeling, Lyra looked down into the sarcophagus; she wanted to look at both of her parents. Looking at her mother's face in death, Lyra couldn't help the string of apologies that came tumbling from her mouth. She was sorry that she was not there for her mother as she exited this world to be with her dead husband and brothers. She was sorry that she didn't spend more of her married life with her mother when she was alive. She was sorry for so happily gulping down the poisoned tea when she shouldn't have been having tea at all. She was sorry that her mother would never meet the child she lost to Cersei and all of the other children she would have with Jaime.

Finished with her breakdown, Lyra then looked at her mother's face more closely. Growing up, Lyra remembered tales of her mother being the Desert Rose: the Beauty of House Martell. Now though, Meria was far from beautiful. Lyra's mother had always been well groomed and took excellent care of her skin; but now, her flawless olive skin was a dull powdery white pallor. Her eyes were slightly sunken and her lids had become a burgundy purple, and her long thick hair was tangled. Sniffing and drying her eyes, Lyra pulled out the pale color cream and kohl liner she'd borrowed from the whores in the village outside the castle. Carefully, Lyra painted the pale cream onto her mother's eyes, blending to make it look more natural. Then, Lyra applied the kohl liner with a thin brush she'd found in the Lady's Room; finally, Lyra brushed Meria's hair out as best as she could. Leaning back to check the full view of her work, Lyra thought Meria was beginning to resemble the woman she was in life. Folding her mother's hands over her small breast, Lyra turned her attention towards her father's corpse.

Lyra could scarce remember what her father's face looked like, she was only four when he died. All her life, Lyra had heard of how handsome Brandon Stark was, but now, he'd been dead for seventeen years; his face had decayed so much that she could barely make out a face at all. It made Lyra darkly laugh; when she'd spend her six months in Winterfell, she'd play near the crypts or across her father's tomb because in her child's mind, she wanted Father to watch her play. One day, when Lyra was eight years, she had fallen asleep while she was reading to her father. A young Jory Cassel found her and brought her to Uncle Ned, who, along with Aunt Cat, were worried sick about her. After apologizing and explaining how she'd fallen asleep reading to Father, Uncle Ned's curiosity was piqued and he asked her why she preferred to play near the crypts and across from her father.

Little Lyra could only stare at Uncle Ned as if the answer should be obvious; "I can't see Father, but Mamma says he can see me! I want the Wild Wolf to see his Lone Wolf grow!"

 _The Lone Wolf..._

Lyra had earned that nickname at the age of six. Believing herself to be a Martell since she was a child and lived in Sunspear, Lyra thought herself to be as much. One day, she was play fighting with Arienne, and when she beat her older cousin, telling her that she was the Sun and Spear just like Queen Nymeria. Arienne, upset that her younger cousin had bested her, angrily told Lyra: "You're not a Martell! Don't be stupid! You're a Stark, a wolf, like your father!" Having such an inquisitive nature, Lyra asked the old former maester, Deryk, for a book about the great houses of Westros. Flipping to the pages on House Stark, Lyra read about all of the She-Wolf queens and ladies and their husbands' wolfish nicknames. Seeing how far away Sunspear, Lyra's home, was from the North, she began to call herself the Lone Wolf, it seemed most fitting. Like a lone wolf, Lyra would go back to Winterfell, the pack, on visits; but otherwise, Lyra was alone, neither a proper Stark nor Martell.

* * *

Reaching the hill overlooking the castle, Jaime impatiently waited for the rest of his soldiers to catch up before approaching the stronghold.

"Jaime!" Bronn shouted, getting Jaime's attention.

Without looking behind him, Jaime asked the up-jump sellsword; "How far behind are they?"

According to Ser Bronn, the rest of the army should only be five minutes away. Though they'd travelled at a breakneck pace, they'd only managed to reach Greywater Watch, the seat of House Reed, in a fortnight. _The damn rivers are a bitch to get men across..._ Jaime thought irritably. They'd be in Winterfell right now, knowing that Lyra was safe, if it weren't for their lack of preparedness in dealing with the terrain of the Riverlands.

Looking at Jaime, Bronn couldn't help but notice how much of a toll Lyra's disappearance had taken on him. Bronn could tell that Jaime was not sleeping or eating much; he had dark circles beneath his tired, cat-like eyes, he was unshaven, and his cheeks had begun to hollow out. _Gods be good I pray I shall never love a woman so_ , the knight thought to himself. Jaime had been running himself ragged ever since he paid the ship's captain to turn around and return to King's Landing. Hearing the army approaching, Bronn sat quietly with Jaime on his horse as the lads raised the white peace banners and they waited for Reed men to do the same.

* * *

Looking over the battlements of Winterfell, Lyra saw that beautiful sunset she remembered. Only in the North could the sun set so magically; the sky, ranging from blood orange at the horizon to the scarlet purple, reflected it's dying light onto the snow, making it a periwinkle purple.

The battle for the Stark's seat was won, Mother was now laid to rest, the princesses were safe, Lyra's soldiers had completely bought the story that they'd come North to save Myrcella; that they destroyed the Boltons because they were barring their passage back to the Capitol; and that they were leaving Sansa with Jon because she was now under his protection. Sure, the Red Cloaks had been weary at first, until Jon gave their knights and officers permission to sleep where they'd like for the night. Currently, the men were in the Main Hall, feasting on food and victory, while Lyra was enjoying her peace and silence watching the sun set. Of course, Ser Addam had to interrupt that...

"Lady Lannister," the knight acknowledged.

"Did you send the ravens as I instructed?"

As soon as they'd reorganized their army, Lyra quickly wrote Jaime that she was safe in Winterfell and was now headed south to the Twins with a Martell host. She had instructed Ser Addam to send one to the Twins, and copies, all of which received a seal as well, to Greywater Watch and whomever was holding Moat Cailin. All of which should arrive by night since Addam sent them right away.

* * *

Relieved that they'd decided to stop at Greywater Watch, Bronn tried to pass the salt to Jaime, who had yet to touch his food. Figuring that it was his own loss as the gators tasted a bit like chicken, Ser Bronn shrugged. Meanwhile, Jaime and Lord Howland Reed spoke.

Jaime was so relieved when Lord Reed told him about Lyra's raven that he literally felt all of the muscles in his body relax as he finally sank into the cushioning of the chair. Lord Reed also told him of how a raven, signed by Jon Snow, Lord of Winterfell, has asked every castle and holdfast South of Winterfell to allow Lyra's Lannister-Martell forces to pass without issue. It was also added, a stressed, by Jon that Lyra is his cousin, and that she and her army mean the North no harm: they are simply passing through to get to the Twins.

Trying to act disinterested, but curiosity getting the better of him, Bronn listened to Jaime and Howland's conversation. Howland was trying to convince Jaime and the Red Cloaks to stay at Greywater Watch as his guests. Jaime, initially weary from hearing about the Frey's violation of guest rights, and rightfully so, was convinced when Howland assured Jaime that the North was in no shape to defend themselves against Red Cloaks in the Neck with Lyra's 2,000 and more strong army just North of them. Besides, Howland argued, if Lyra doesn't know where Jaime is and she's taking the King's Road, then she will be forced to cross Greywater Watch. Jaime considered this in addition to the fact that he and the Red Cloaks were North under peace banners, so it was best not to march to Winterfell.

After much talking and consideration, Howland Reed agreed to send a raven to Winterfell to alert Lyra as to where Jaime is, and the Lannister soldiers would stay at Greywater Watch. Bronn's ears pricked up at this; _Excellent!_ He thought to himself, _A warm bed to sleep in and perhaps a comely maiden to enjoy it with_. He added the latter thought after glancing at a particularly buxom kitchen wench with lovely thick black curls.

 _Classy, a girl with curls._

* * *

 _Find my sword Lyra Stark, for Winter is Coming and it brings the Long Night with it!_

Waking up in the Lady's chambers, which were given to her by Jon, but it would be Sansa's tomorrow, Lyra was getting sick of these dreams. Getting up to splash cold water on her face, Lyra suddenly began to sweat and feel hot in the chilly room. Dry heaving and feeling the vomit coming up her esophagus, Lyra quickly searched the room for something to put her sick in.

 _Shit! Gods it's coming up!_ Lyra had no choice, so she quickly grabbed the chamber pot and promptly emptied the contents of her stomach. Groaning in irritation, Lyra was wondering why she was feeling out of sorts ever since they'd been on the road. At first, she just thought it was home sickness from being away from Jaime and her Martell family; now she wasn't so sure. She had been vomiting in the morning during their travels North, she'd thought it was simply sickness from poor sleeping on the road. Lyra couldn't believe that she didn't suspect earlier when her breasts began to ache; however, this didn't begin until she had worn her armor and tunic for a couple of days, which always happened regardless of her fertility.

Overwhelmed with joy, Lyra began to feel her belly to see if there was a small bump forming. She quickly stopped, disappointed, when she realized that if she was indeed pregnant then she couldn't be more than a moon and a half along. At the most, Lyra was two moons along.

 _No matter! Jaime will be so happy to hear that I'm with child again!_

Then, as her brain began to wake up, Lyra went from elated to horrified as realization set in. She had been pregnant all this time. Fighting battles! Killing men! Running all over the bloody North! Gods be Good! By the time Lyra stopped worrying about everything she'd been doing whilst pregnant, she was thankful to still be pregnant at all.

Washing her face in the basin, Lyra looked at herself clean for the first time in a month. Last night, after Jon let her men feast, Lyra requested a bath be drawn for her. It had been so long since her chilled skin had hit warmth and her dirt and blood covered body was clean that the mere thought of it was titilating. It wasn't until that night when the pains and aches from the morning's battle had set it. Lyra was certainly thankful for the hot bath then as it helped ease the ache of her muscles. That was when Sansa had come in.

Initially, Sansa was horrified to have walked in on her bathing cousin until she saw that Lyra was having trouble properly washing her hair due to her shoulder pain. Lyra tried to argue and tell Sansa that she was the Lady of Winterfell by law; to which Sansa promptly replied that it was Lyra who had the legal claim over Winterfell whether she liked it or not. Seeing that her cousin was about to argue, Sansa told her that the real reason why she was in Lyra's rooms was to give her a clean shift, a dress, and cloak for the ride home. Relenting when Sansa told Lyra that helping her bathe and dress with her injuries and pain was the least she could do since she helped her and Jon re-take Winterfell and protected her whenever she could. The two ladies chatted as Sansa helped Lyra wash her long hair properly. The two women laughed when they saw the blood and grime that had come out from Sansa wringing Lyra's hair out.

When she finished her cousin's hair, Sansa helped Lyra into Walda's robe, bless the poor woman and her son, and the two women sat in the chairs across the warm fire. The night getting late and Lyra's hair dry enough, Sansa put Lyra's clothes on the table and left for the Lord's chambers. Poor sweet Sansa, whatever had happened to her at Winterfell must have been horrible because Jon wouldn't let her have any room but the Lord's or Lady's.

As Lyra was contemplating how in the Seven Hells she was going to quell Jaime's anger when she returned to him, there was a knock on the door. Sansa walked in with a woman who was carrying a tray of tea and food. Smelling the tea and food, Lyra realized how hungry she was and hadn't been properly fed in a while.

Sansa and Lyra sat down to have their midday meal together. Sansa and Jon didn't want to wake Lyra until then because they figured that she could use the rest, apparently.

"I see that you've tried on the dress," Sansa mentioned once they'd finished eating; glancing at the untouched dress she'd given Lyra. Feeling guilty for not putting it on, Lyra told her cousin to hold on while she put it on. The dress itself was burgundy and in the Northern style. Like Sansa's dress, Lyra's also had a dire wolf stitched on it, but her dire wolf was black instead. Running her hand over the dire wolf, Lyra thanked Sansa.

"It's much warmer than your armor and tunic. And if you're going to call yourself the Lone Wolf of House Lannister, then I figured you should look the part. It's just that a pink-red is more feminine," Sansa told her; admiring her work.

Putting on the black cloak with black trim, Lyra accompanied Sansa to the Main Hall. Walking in, Ser Addam, the princesses, and Jon were at the table, likely discussing the Lannister-Martell departure.

Princess Myrcella, finally seeing her aunt in a dress, asked Sansa; "Does she like it?! The colors are lovely on her!"

Apparently, while everyone else was planning for war and battling, Sansa and Myrcella were passing the time and easing their anxieties by making Lyra a dress to wear back to the Twins. Jon asking everyone to leave, Lyra walked to the Lord's chair.

"Remember when we were children and you and Robb used to duel for mine and Sansa's favor?" Lyra asked as she ran her hand over the smooth oak.

Laughing at the memory; "Yes, I remember. I wanted to be Lord of Winterfell so badly." Jon almost bashfully admitted.

"Lady Lyra," Jon suddenly fell serious. "Your husband will listen to you. Please urge him that Winter is Coming and the Long Night comes with it." Lyra paused at Jon's words; those were the exact words the Three Eyed Raven had said to her in her dreams. Nodding her head in the affirmative, Jon embraced Lyra goodbye. Releasing each other, Jon's words to Lyra were so touching that she'd never forget them; "You will always have friends and family here, in the North."

Embarking for her journey from Winterfell, which Lyra assumed would be the last, she could hear Princess Myrcella telling Sansa how much she'd love to have her as a guest one day. Sadly, Myrcella kissed Jon and Sansa, both, for saving her before begging Sansa to stay safe and to never journey South again.

Lyra shook her head sadly atop of Brightsun. _You don't deserve to have such a sweet girl, Cersei._

* * *

It had been two days since Jaime had sat atop the battlements of the castle of House Reed looking for Lyra or any sign of her or his men. It was growing dark, but due to the moonlight reflecting from the snow, Jaime could easily stay up for another three hours without his vision being hindered. Warming his hands next to the fire, Jaime's heart lept when he saw a dark silhouette of a woman on a horse on the King's Road, waiting for peace banners. Heart quickening, Jaime ran down to the stables to get Honor.

Waiting anxiously for the peace banners of House Reed, Lyra fidgeted with the silver Dire wolf ring given to her by her father. Thinking, Lyra was glad that she'd been able to bury her parents together and see them one last time before their departure.

 _I suppose that now there's another generation of Starks growing._ Lyra had said to her Mother and father down in the crypts as she rubbed her pregnant belly. Though she knew they were both dead and gone now, back to the dirt, Lyra still liked to believe that her mother and father could still watch over her. She had to; it was the only way she felt she could cope right now.

Despite the protests of the Reed men, Jaime saddled Honor himself since the stable boy was too slow for his liking, and raced out to meet the dark figure on the road. As they galloped through the snow, Jaime felt joy fill him as the woman drew her sword when he neared her, only to sheath it once she realized who he was; she had to be Lyra.

Dismounting from Honor, Jaime didn't even wait for his lady wife to dismount. Instead, he pulled her off of her horse and held her in his arms, holding her to him tightly.

Between kissing and embracing Jaime, Lyra was crying; "Gods Jaime! I'm so sorry! Please don't be too angry; I had to go, the princess and the Martells needed me! I'm sorry, I promise to never leave you again!"

Truth be told, Jaime was quite angry with Lyra for taking his army North to unseat the Boltons, but most importantly, she'd put herself in danger. However, none of that mattered right now; right now, his lady wife was back and she was safe.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra and Jaime properly re-unite and Lyra tells Jaime that she is pregnant.**


	32. Chapter 32: The Prophecy and a Warning

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay everyone! I've been studying for my boards so I haven't had much time to write. I have NOT given up on ANY of my fics! I'd also like to thank everyone for their great reviews, you've all been wonderful!**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 32: The Prophecy and a Warning**

After Lyra and Jaime's tearful reunion in the snow, they rode back to Greywater Watch on top of Honor. Jaime had his right arm wrapped around Lyra's waist, holding her against himself as she leaned back against his torso. Her hot breath was tickling his neck as she closed her eyes and relaxed against him during the ride.

Upon reaching the castle, Jaime and Lyra were greeted by Lord Reed himself. A stable boy taking Honor and Jaime thanking Ser Addam for keeping Lady Lannister safe, Lord Reed pulled Lyra to the side:

"The North can't thank you enough my lady. The Seven Kingdoms will believe that you unseated the Boltons to rescue the Princess Myrcella and punish the traitors for treason, but the North will remember: Lady Lyra Stark defeated the Mad Dog of House Bolton for the Starks and to restore the North." Lord Reed whispered quietly so only Lyra could hear. Upon seeing Princess Myrcella dismount and enter the courtyard, Lord Reed had his men bow to her.

"We are thankful for your safety and your health, princess," Lord Reed kissed Myrcella's delicate, ivory hand. "We would be honored to have you as a guest in our humble home and escort you and these brave men south in the morning."

Myrcella smiled gracefully at the old nobleman before letting the servants lead her and her handmaiden Tia to a warm room in the castle. When a servant mentioned finding the princess more suitable clothes and a hot bath, Myrcella's face visibly brightened at the prospect.

"It seems as if everyone from the North to the Crown and the Lannisters are going to buy your story, cousin," a shivering Princess Arienne said as she stood next to Lyra. "Myrcella seems to be buying the story that you came North and defeated the Boltons to save _her_ , I just hope that her crazy bitch mother does as well," she added before a steward led her, Ser Dezial and their Dornish Captains to rooms for the night.

As Lyra watched her cousin walk with Ser Dezial, giving the man a rather seductive look when she learned that they'd be quartered near each other, she couldn't help but to shake her head at Arienne's fickleness. Only a year ago a smitten Ser Dezial had asked for Princess Arienne's hand in marriage, which she had rejected even when her father thought the marriage would be a good match. Ser Dezial was a salty dornish and handsome man, but he lacked the daring and willfulness that Arienne tended to find so attractive in men.

 _Ser Dezial's fierceness in protecting Arienne and his bravery in leading her men in the battles up North seems to have changed her mind though_ , Lyra thought to herself, a small smirk creeping to her face. If Arienne were to ever re-take Dorne from their treacherous bastard cousins, then she was going to need an honorable and dutiful husband to help her restore House Martell.

Watching as her own Lannister soldiers greeted Jaime's in the courtyard, Lyra couldn't help but to smile at everyone. The soldiers were all greeting each other excitedly. Lyra's were regaling Jaime's with their tales of the events that had transpired: how Lady Lannister led them North on a daring rescue mission for Princess Myrcella; how all odds were stacked against them during the battle for Winterfell, yet they'd managed to prevail; and how the Lone Wolf of Lannister had ultimately led them to victory during the auxiliary battle in the valley.

Bronn eventually made his way over to an exhausted Ser Addam. The up-jump-sell sword clapped the older man on the back saying, "Addam, you old dog! And here I thought you said that you were getting too old for this sort of thing!" Bronn congratulated the Lannister knight enthusiastically about the way he'd handled being North with Lyra and helped lead a good portion of the Lannister army.

Watching Jaime and their men reunite and mingle with the Reed men and Dornishmen (something Lyra thought she'd never even dream she'd ever see), Lyra touched her belly; _everything is going to be alright_ , she told herself and the babe she was carrying.

Indeed, it seemed to Lyra, at this moment that there was no longer anything to fear. She'd saved her cousins, Princess Myrcella, restored Winterfell to House Stark, and came back to Jaime in one piece. It also seemed that her chances of being charged with treason were becoming less and less by the minute.

* * *

Lord Reed's steward finally led Lyra to a room Jaime had been staying in, the room she'd now be sharing with him for the night. She was thankful to finally have a warm bed to sleep in again.

Stripping down to her shift, Lyra massaged her aching breasts after unlacing her own corset herself. Normally, her handmaidens would have helped her with this, but they'd been left at the Twins with the rest of the Lannister household that would be coming to the Rock. Lyra's swollen breasts finally freed from the confines of her hard corset, she finally felt the ache in her breast finally beginning to dissipate as she gently massaged them.

Everyone was currently in the dining hall, having supper, which Lord Reed was happy to provide to the soldiers. However, Lyra simply wished to be alone. She was exhausted and only wished to turn in for the evening. Besides, she'd been around soldiers and other people for longer than she wished, and she needed to unwind and be with her own thoughts for a while.

Getting out the pack that the maester had given her before she left Winterfell, Lyra re-applied the salve to her wounds and put new dressings on them. The salve appeared to be working as Lyra's battle wounds had no evidence of infection and were beginning to heal well.

Finishing with her dressings, Lyra loosely braided her hair for sleep and washed her face in the basin. She was about to climb into bed for sleep when she heard a knock on the door. Irritated, Lyra threw off the covers, covered herself with a shawl and unbolted the door.

"Forgive me Lady Lannister," said a round-faced kitchen boy, "but Lord Lannister asked me to bring some food up for you. He also wants you to know that he will be joining you shortly." The boy then set the tray with stew down and a goblet down on the table with a pitcher of water before Lyra bid him good night and closed the door behind him.

Feeling her belly beginning to ache from hunger, Lyra felt too tired to eat, but she guilted herself into it anyways. Thinking of the babe growing in her belly and of how hard she'd been on her pregnant body during the past two months, she mustered up the strength to sit down at the table and eat. Surprised at herself for being able to finish all of the stew, Lyra figured that the growing babe was quite hungry too; she'd been eating very little and thus her appetite had gone down in the past two months.

The heavy food making her too sleepy to bare it any longer, Lyra drug herself over to the bed and lied down. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 _"Lyra," a raven cawed._

 _Opening her eyes, Lyra realized that she was back in the Red Keep…again. Standing in the same corridor with the same candelabra in her hand._

 _Feeling a gust of wind and hearing the flapping of wings come from behind her, Lyra lifted the candelabra further in front of her. The raven transformed again into Brynden Rivers, the Blood Raven._

 _"Lyra, Winter is coming and we are all running out of time." The Blood Raven, grabbing Lyra's hand, began to lead her down the same corridor that led to the room full of Targaryen dragon skulls in the bowls of the Red Keep._

 _Leading Lyra to the dragon skull on which the raven had once landed on, the Blood Raven turned to her, pointing at the skull. "My time has run out, Lyra! Find my sword! Find Dark Sister before Winter comes! If not, you and all those around you will be doomed, for **you** are meant to face **her**!" He raised his voice with urgency._

 _Looking at the skull, Lyra told the Blood Raven; "But there's nothing here."_

 _As soon as she turned back to face him though, Lyra did not see the Blood Raven; instead, she only saw what was only described in legends. Something that made her body become stiff with fear. She was face to face with a White Walker._

 _Lyra felt her voice stuck in her throat as she tried to scream. The white walker, emitting the coldness of winter itself, had glowing azure blue eyes, even in the darkness. It then said something, something in a language that sounded more like a horrid screeching sound of steel tearing steel. It then reached out to her, his cold, white hand touching her shoulder, freezing it, even through the thick fabric of her dress and heavy cloak._

* * *

Jaime had just finished setting up the rest of his soldiers in the courtyard of Greywater Watch. He told them to get comfortable, eat plenty, and rest up; _Gods be good they deserve it after what Lyra has put them through_. Jaime was cold, he was exhausted, and despite his anger towards his lady wife, he was looking forward to finally climbing into a warm bed with Lyra. The thought of her warm, soft skin against his as they slept made him walk a little faster to their room in the castle.

Nearing the door, Jaime could hear moaning, as if someone were having a nightmare. Opening the door, he saw Lyra, who was hyperventilating, thrashing, and moaning about White Walkers in her sleep. Putting his bare hand on her shoulder, Jaime shook his lady wife out of her nightmare.

When Lyra awoke, she shot up in bed, and shrieked; "The White Walkers are coming! They're coming and they're bringing the Long Night with them!"

It took some time, and a pint of mead, to calm Lyra down enough so she could coherently speak to Jaime. She told him everything: about how she saw Jon Snow was stabbed to death and stone cold when the red witch resurrected him; how her cousin as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch led a group of men to Hardhome and fought the White Walkers there with the Wildlings; she told him of her re-occurring dreams of Brynden Rivers, the Blood Raven, and his cryptic warnings. All of which Jaime scoffed at. To him, all were impossible.

"Since when have you ever heard of a Stark lie?" Lyra accused Jaime when he didn't believe Jon Snow's words. However, he had no explanation for Snow's resurrection, and he knew that Lyra wasn't lying about that since she and Ser Addam both had witnessed the event. As for Lyra's dreams, they were only dreams. Besides, it was impossible for the Blood Raven to still be alive. The Northmen were too superstitious for Jaime's taste, and his lady wife's time in the North was clearly having an effect on her.

As Jaime held her in an attempt to comfort her from her nightmare, Lyra tried not to be frustrated with her husband as he scoffed at her words. She knew that she had already pushed things by bending the power Jaime had given her over the Lannister army by taking them all North. Becoming sad as the crushing weight of her Martell family's deaths began to fall on to her, Lyra tried to push her sad thoughts to the back of her mind and focus on the good. She was pregnant again, her mission up North was a success, and she was finally back with her lord husband. Realizing how terribly she'd missed him, Lyra kissed Jaime for the first time in months.

Feeling his hot tongue sliding into her cool mouth, Jaime and Lyra deepened their kiss. Lyra then began to help her husband out of his clothes as he helped her out of her shift, careful to avoid her battle wounds.

Lyra lied on the bed, her eyes half closed as she watched Jaime pull his tunic off before he climbed on top of her. Jaime closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of his wife's porcelain hands roamed over his toned torso. She'd become rather thin and gained more muscle tone, but Jaime thought she was just as beautiful as ever. He moaned softly in relief as he slid into Lyra's hot, slick core. Trailing his hands up her small waist and touching her swollen milky breasts, he heard her sigh lustfully and her body shiver as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. They then began their lovemaking dance. Lyra, pulling Jaime closer to her told him that she loved him and how she'd missed him greatly. Slowing down their rhythm, he told her that he loved her so much that he promised they'd never part again.

Normally, Lyra would have gotten on her belly, but her and Jaime both wanted more the intimacy of seeing one another as they fucked and finished together. Lyra, finishing first, felt those same strong, fluttering contractions around Jaime's cock that she'd felt during their romp in the gardens at the Red Keep. She was beginning to find that she tended to finish stronger and longer when she was pregnant. Jaime, feeling his wife's hard contractions around his member, soon followed her, a long moan of relief coming out of him as he pumped his seed into his wife.

Pulling out of Lyra, Jaime didn't really want to move from his postion on top of her, so he laid his head down on her soft breast and listened to her fluttering heart slow down. Carding her fingers through his damp hair, Lyra couldn't help but to worry about the White Walkers approaching the realm.

"Jaime," Lyra began breathlessly, though her heart had finally returned to a normal pace. "I know you don't believe in this sort of thing, but you _know_ my cousins, and despite everything that happened, you _know_ that Ned was so honest it got him killed." Jaime rolled off of her so that they may face one another. Turning to her side, Lyra's warm doe eyes bore into Jaime's green cat eyes. Leaning her head against his, she added, "Please. Please, at least consider everything I've told you." Kissing him, she continued, "Please? For me." Placing his hand on her belly, she added, "Please, for both of us. All three of us."

As his wife placed his hand on her flat belly, Jaime examined her more closely. Though her belly was no indicating she was with child, he noted her swollen breasts and glowing skin. Despite being so thin at the moment, Lyra was beginning to look as she was when she was pregnant with the babe Cersei had killed, which still made Jaime want to strangle his twin.

Smiling and kissing Lyra's belly, he asked her; "Are you sure?" Though Jaime's heart lept in joy, he still felt that it may be too early to tell.

Placing a thin hand over her flat belly, Lyra told him that she had not bled in two moons and that she was beginning to feel pain in her breasts and sickness in the mornings again.

"Of course, my breast plate and armor didn't exactly help with any of that," his wife jokingly commented about her aching back and breasts.

Kissing her belly, Jaime assured Lyra, "We shall have to wait and see about these rumors of the White Walkers, but after we stop the siege of Riverrun and return to the Rock, the Lannisters are no longer fighting unless we have to," Jaime told her firmly. As far as he was concerned, the Lannisters had done enough fighting. It was time he and Lyra went home to rule and prepare the West for a long, harsh winter. Besides, _if_ the rumors were to be true, then the North could likely push back the White Walkers with the help of the Night's Watch as they had thousands of years before. Jaime was done with the realm's wars and politics, and the West had gone long enough without anyone to properly rule. Indeed, Jaime had made up his mind that as far as the Lannisters, other than Cersei, were concerned, the realm was no longer their problem.


	33. Chapter 33: The Lone Wolf Remembers

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long absence everyone! I haven't given up on any of my fics, but I have had some terrible writer's block. I hope to have the next chapter up in a few days.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

 **Also, R &R if you can, please!**

* * *

 **Chapter 33: The Lone Wolf Remembers**

Lyra was certain that she was the first in bed last night, so how she ended up being the last person to wake the next day eluded her. Lyra had been in a deep sleep before Jaime had shaken her awake to a midday sun.

Still feeling her lord husband's sticky seed on her thighs, Lyra had quickly wiped her thighs clean after washing her face in the basin. Lord Reed was kind enough to send a servant up to help Lyra dress- _Jaime likely has something to do with that._

The bacon tasted especially good that morning- _in fact, all pork tastes fantastic these days._ Lyra had begun to notice a short time ago that she particularly craved ham and bacon; which felt a little odd to her because she had no aversions to certain foods or cravings last time she was pregnant. _In fact, this pregnancy already seems as if it will be quite different._ Indeed, Lyra barely noticed that she was pregnant during the first time, now though, she could definitely tell a difference.

Finished breaking her fast, Lyra gathered her things, which only included her riding pack with her shredded garb and some medical supplies. The armor she'd worn for the battles in the North was currently under the care of the Lannister army Supplies Manager. _Jaime did tell me that I had essentially gone rogue with the Lannister army. I suppose that taking my armor away is one way to ensure that I won't do so again._

Once the old woman servant helped Lyra plait her hair back for the journey to the Twins, Lyra was ready to go. Grabbing her riding pack, cloak, and Night's Queen, she stepped out into the castle's hustle and bustle of soldiers, knights and servants.

When Jaime had woken Lyra that morning, he told her to simply go to the head of the Lannister army and wait atop of Brightsun with Bronn and Myrcella. Jaime was now the head of the re-united Lannister forces so Lyra's power had now been delegated to simply "Lady Lannister"; a role that she was now eager to take instead of the role as an acting military commander since finding herself pregnant again. However, Lyra first wanted to speak to Lord Reed.

The steward leading her to the Lord's Solar, Lyra knocked on the door. Lord Reed invited her to sit with him, but Lyra told him that she would simply like to thank him for his hospitality.

"It was the least I could do for Brandon and Ned Stark, " Lord Reed's eyes grew misty at remembering the two former Stark lords. Before Lyra could leave though, he added; "You may be the Lone Wolf of House Lannister my lady; but here, in the North, you will always be Lyra Stark, only living child of Lord Brandon Stark."

The Starks ruled just and with honor for thousands of years. House Stark kept the North together, surviving, through promoting a group effort between the houses and strict adherence to the Old Ways.

Many of the Northern Houses were willing to co-operate with the Dornish and the Lannisters, their enemies, for a higher purpose: to restore House Stark as the ruling house of the North. Despite her loyalties to House Lannister, Lyra helped put a Stark back in Winterfell because of the Stark ideals of duty and honor in the end.

 _A Stark should always sit in Winterfell._

Those words rang true to Lyra as she saw the North transformed in only a day after she helped put Sansa and Jon back in Winterfell. The Boltons could never hold the North; the North has been, and always would be, meant to be ruled by a Stark, which is why Lyra realized she alone could never rule it as a Lannister. All of the houses who came together to aid House Stark, came because they loved House Stark; and they trusted Lyra leading the Lannister army to help them because she had demonstrated that she subconsciously up held House Stark's highest ideals of duty and honor.

Feeling better about her decision to give up her seat in Winterfell, Lyra left Lord Reed with the words: "The Lone Wolf will always remember."

To which he promptly responded; "As does the North, Lyra Stark."

 _The North Remembers._

Lyra and Arienne spoke as their horses were saddled. Lyra was shocked to learn that Arienne was deciding to accompany Myrcella to the Capitol.

As they rode to the front of the waiting armies, Arienne explained that after learning how House Lannister would be neutral in any upcoming wars throughout Winter, it was best that the Dornish return with Myrcella. Arienne added that she and her vassels had decided that their chances of regaining Dorne would be better if they went with Princess Myrcella because Cersei was such a crazy cunt that she'd likely go to war against the Dornish traitors and restore the loyal House Martell for their part in saving Myrcella's life.

Their armies ready, Jaime rode Honor to the front with Ser Addam closely behind him. Lord and Lady Lannister rode at the head of the Lannister army, leading them to the Twins. Arienne and Ser Dezial rode at the front of the Dornish forces, while Myrcella rode between Bronn and Ser Addam behind her aunt and uncle. Normally, Jaime would have had Lyra ride in a carriage with Myrcella and Arienne, but only the army rode north, not the household. Therefore, they simply did not have the luxury of a carriage, which Lyra didn't mind as she took the opportunity for a last glimpse of her father's homeland.

Marching south on the King's Road, the armies finally came to a halt when the Twins were directly west of them. The Lannisters were parting ways with Myrcella and the Dornish.

Earlier that morning, after Ser Dezial, the head of Arienne's army, had come to Jaime that morning, explaining that the Dornish would no longer be accompanying the Lannisters to the Rock; Jaime ordered Ser Addam to take as many Red Cloaks to King's Landing as there were Dornishmen accompanying the princesses. Jaime doubted that Arienne would betray them since she would need the Crown's help in their endeavor to re-take Dorne. However, given how treacherous many houses had proven to be when it came to the Crown, Jaime decided to have Ser Addam take Myrcella back with Red Cloaks as a precaution. If he didn't, Jaime would never hear the end of it from Cersei, and if something actually happened to Myrcella with no Lannisters to protect her, Jaime feared that Cersei's paranoia would cause her to put Lyra in danger. However, Ser Addam was not to stay in King's Landing by his orders; in fact, Ser Addam was to also give Ser Kevan an official summons to return to the Rock. Both knights were to return to the Rock with their men as soon as possible once Myrcella's safety had been secured in King's Landing.

* * *

Jaime ended up stopping the Lannister army halfway between the King's Road and the Twins. Though he loathed the fact that they would be camping in the Riverlands for the night- _I can't trust the knowledge of Lyra's pregnancy with anyone here. They're too loyal to the Crown._ Jaime didn't know any of the Lords in the Riverlands that well, and the nobility he did know; he didn't feel comfortable trusting them with the knowledge of Lyra's pregnancy. Cersei had already tried to kill Lyra and their babe in King's Landing because it would have potentially put her children's claim to the throne in question. Then, Jaime had heard of how a Lannister knight, one of _his_ knights, betrayed Lyra in the North and attempted to kill her for Cersei.

 _Best to stay safe and simply set up camp instead. It will be easier to watch my men around Lyra._ Jaime hated the fact that he could no longer fully trust his own men, but it was for the best until they got to the Rock where he'd be surrounded by _his own_ allies and not the allies he shared with Cersei; rather, men who swore oaths to the Lord of House Lannister before the Crown.

Walking to their tent after a small council meeting about heading to the Twins tomorrow, Jaime noticed something unusual about Lyra.

"You've been unusually quiet during this journey," he said to his lady wife as she silently readied for bed. Lyra _always_ had something to say, and so much had happened in the past two months. Jaime was baffled as to why his wife had suddenly become so withdrawn and pensive. Her goodbyes to Myrcella and Arienne were sullen and even seemed a little melancholic- _Is she sad that Arienne decided to leave her?_

"Have I?" Lyra answered; not actually paying much attention as she finished brushing her hair for sleep.

Initially feeling cold, Jaime and Lyra soon warmed up in the bedroll they were sharing. Not getting an answer from his wife, Jaime turned her around to face him, and saw tears pricking her eyes.

Kissing her reassuringly, Jaime told Lyra; "You know you can tell me." Gods knew he'd shared his darkest secrets with her.

It took Lyra a while to put her concern into words, which surprised her since it was all that she could think about on their way to the Twins.

"What if we have a girl?"

It felt like a silly question and concern for Lyra, but given how the battle for Winterfell had only happened recently, the topic of inheritance was now at the forefront of her mind.

"Then, we have a girl," Jaime said, pulling her close.

"What if she's the only child we have?" Lyra's voice filled with fear. "We're at war right now, whether or not House Lannister chooses to become neutral. Anything could happen; something could happen to you or me? Or both of us? Our girl would be alone with people whom wish to do nothing but use her to climb the proverbial ladder."

Lyra's sudden anxiety as to what could happen to their children vaguely reminded Jaime of how Cersei began down the road to insanity…

Wipping the tears from her eyes, Jaime straddled Lyra's waist, kissing her forehead. Holding the sides of her head, he told her that _nothing_ was going to happen to their babe or to either of them.

Lyra wanted to believe her lord husband, but the nagging anxiety wouldn't stop. "My mother and father thought the same, until my father died…no, he got himself killed." Lyra hated the Mad King for murdering her father and grandfather, but as she'd grown, she'd begun to understand that her father died because of his own foolishness. Brandon Stark knew how mad the king was and how he was always looking for a reason to burn people for supposed "crimes". Lyra, who had just gotten a taste of what it is like to rule and go to battle for people she loved, felt that her father should have known how confronting Prince Rhaegar at the Red Keep would play out.

"And because he got himself killed before I could have any brothers, my seat at Winterfell was lost to me forever. I was not a boy, so the Northmen rallied behind my lord uncle, while my mother and I sailed to Dorne. I was a fool to believe that I could have ever held the North on my own claim," that much had become apparent to Lyra in the North. The Northmen fought for Jon and Sansa, not Lyra.

After helping Lyra out of her shift, Jaime held her bare body to his, relishing in the contact he'd been longing for. Feeling her tears wetting his shoulder, he whispered in her ear; "You're not your mother, Lyra." He kissed her again; her dry lips had become soft again. "Your mother was Princess Meria; _you_ are the Lone Wolf of House Lannister whether you like it or not." Laying her back on the bedroll, he added, "Unlike your mother with House Stark, you've been accepted into House Lannister, especially since Winterfell. Despite what you may think, House Lannister protects their own, and you _are_ one of us," he put his hand on her belly- _especially after you've had our babe._ Once Lyra gave birth to the heir to Jaime's heir, there was no doubt in his mind that Lyra would be able to keep her position and their child's seat at Casterly Rock, even if they only had a girl together.

Though worried, Lyra couldn't help the swell of pride growing within her when Jaime called her the Lone Wolf, but the Lone Wolf of House Lannister. No doubt Jaime had gotten this nickname from his men as that's what they'd called Lyra as they fought their way south; but still, it meant to Lyra that she was accepted as Lady Lannister by her lord husband's family, and by the Lannister men. _They did allow me to lead them to victory in the North, albeit with some resistance at first._

As Jaime pushed into her, Lyra felt her anxiety melting away. Feeling the pleasurable heat build inside of her, she pulled her lord husband close. With each thrust inside of her, building a lustful fire, Lyra began to forget her worries. With each thrust from her lord husband, Lyra's mind clouded with love and desire for him. She'd forgotten how much she'd missed him during his long absence.

They were going to the Rock after taking Riverrun, and they were starting a family. They'd have to take one day at a time.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for such a boring chapter, but it's meant to highlight some anxieties that Lyra has regarding the possibility that her own unborn child could face the same hardships as she did in trying to keep or re-gain their seat.**

 **Next: The Twins, Walder Frey, and Roslin Tully. Also, Lyra must confront an oath she was forced to break**.


	34. Chapter 34: The Wolf Queen Who Never Was

**Author's Note: Sorry that things are moving so slowly. We're going through a build up right now. Things will get more exciting soon as the rest of the realm begins to catch up with Jaime and Lyra.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 34: The Wolf Queen Who Never Was**

It was evening by the time they finally arrived to the Twins. Jaime was relieved that they would be leaving the Riverlands soon; being back in the place where he lost his hand and Robb Stark had him imprisoned for almost a year was causing him to have nightmares again. Nightmares of being chained to that post, sitting in his own filth, never knowing whether or not he'd see Cersei again let alone live through the night, and his hand… Jaime was beginning to have particularly vivid nightmares about losing his hand.

Last night, Jaime dreamt of losing his sword hand. He could smell his own rotting hand, which was hanging around his neck, and then they came for his other hand…

Thank the Gods that Lyra had woken him from his nightmare, though it wounded his pride that his wife saw him in such a state. Jaime was sweating and breathing hard, still in a dream-like state, screaming about his hand.

Lyra had been understanding, she reminded Jaime of his mother when he was young and he and Cersei had terrible dreams. Gently waking Jaime, Lyra put her arms around his torso, and laying her head on his shoulder, she told him that he was safe. Once he'd calmed down, she helped him lay back down on their bedroll before pulling Jaime's head on to her soft, warm breast and stroked his hair.

Thinking about the incident, Jaime felt embarrassed. He was a grown man, a former knight of the King's Guard, the best sword in the Seven Kingdoms, the Lion of Lannister, battle experienced, and Lord Lannister. Yet, here he was, having nightmares about outlaws and the dead boy-king, Robb Stark, while his twenty-two-year-old wife, a swordswoman herself, was comforting him from these nightmares.

Looking at the walls of the Twins, Jaime dismounted with Lyra, whose expression was becoming more pensive and serious the longer they were in the Riverlands. It was unspoken between the husband and wife, but as the Riverlands brought back terrible memories for Jaime, they also brought terrifying ones for Lyra. Jaime saw his lady wife fighting back tears and anger as they approached the Twins: the place where her Stark family was brutally murdered by a traitor, the place where Queen Talisa was stabbed to death in her pregnant belly; the place where Lyra could have met the same fate had she been Queen in the North.

Offering his arm to Lyra, Jaime walked her through the corridors and into the Great Hall where Lord Walder Frey was waiting to receive them. The tension was coming off of Lyra in waves as they got closer to the hall, step by step.

"I see you've come back, my lord," Walder said to Jaime in his gravely voice. "Have a nice journey?" He added, almost mockingly as he saw Jaime and Lyra's slightly disheveled appearance and circles under their eyes from lack of quality sleep.

"Yes Lord Walder," Jaime answered dryly. "We shall be ready to take Riverrun as soon as we've properly fed and rested." In Jaime's mind, if the Lannisters were going to take Riverrun for the Freys, then the he was going to at least impose on Lord Walder to properly feed the men and horses, as well as allow them to get enough rest before continuing. Due to Lyra excursion North, half of Jaime's army was worn out and in need of a couple of days rest.

"Fine," Walder responded deadpanned and irritably before snapping at his own lady wife to find the steward so he could find rooms to house the Lannisters.

As everyone else was dismissed, only Jaime and Lyra remained with the Freys.

"Now, before we get down to business, I have an important question." Lord Walder broke the silence in the great hall. "Who's this one?" He asked, turning his gaze towards Lyra.

"My wife, Lady Lyra Lannister."

"The Lone Wolf? As in Lyra Stark?" It was posed as a question, but it was more of a statement.

When Lyra confirmed that she was the Stark from Sunspear before her marriage, the room suddenly erupted in mumbles from the Freys. _The heir to Winterfell? A Lannister?_

"Lady Lyra Stark, the would be Queen in the North," Lord Walder said more to himself.

The noise in the room quickly turned from curiosity and disbelief to outrage as Walder's children told their father that he was forgetting his manners.

Setting his jaw irritably, Walder barked at his sons; "Shut up!" As the room quieted, he took a softer tone and motioned for Lyra to approach him, "Alright my lady, Please come up so I can observe the proper formalities so we can get on with this."

Lyra, having had it just confirmed that she was now becoming known as the Lone Wolf, did not look at Jaime or anyone else as she approached Lord Frey's seat. Instead, she only held Walder's gaze with her own icy one. Holding out her hand, Lyra did her best to let the Freys know of her disapproval and disgust by their actions with her ice-cold stare and her simmering rage at these cowardly traitors beneath it.

Lord Walder, who was briefly taken aback by the wife of his liege lord's hostility, recomposed himself and kissed her hand. Lyra was disgusted as she felt Lord Walder leave a trace of saliva behind on her hand, however, she never broke face.

"Ha!" Lord Walder laughed, almost strangely delighted. "You may be Lady Lannister, but there's no mistaking those Stark eyes!" Lord Walder remembered how Catelyn and Robb Stark had given him that same look full of contempt hidden with icy curtesy. "Though you seem to have no problem with letting me know exactly how much rage and hate you hold for me. You've got more pluck, I'll give you that. What is it _Lone Wolf_? Angry that we defeated your traitor king?"

" _Father!"_ One of Lord Walder's son's interjected before Lyra could respond. The suffocating tension suddenly returning to the room.

Being reminded of his manners in front of the wife of his liege lord, Lord Walder re-composed himself; telling Lyra "a thousand apologies" for his rudeness.

In turn, Lyra did not feign forgiveness as curtesy dictated; instead, she wipped her hand on her dress with visible disgust. "I'm sure that Lord Walder forgets himself since the Freys have been _failing_ to take Riverrun for over a year now," Lyra couldn't help the smug smile curling her lips as she backed down to re-join Jaime. "I'd probably lose my manners too if I'd been failing at a siege for that long." The insult was not terribly subtle, but Lyra got her point across. She was certain that word of her victory in Winterfell, where the odds were stacked against her, had reached the Twins. Lyra, a lady whom had been relatively green to war, defeated war experienced armies, while Walder was failing miserably to take a castle for more than a year.

Re-composing himself, Lord Walder barked at his children; "Alright, now that I've observed the proper customs, get out! All of you!" Lord Walder and Jaime had much to discuss.

As Lyra saw everyone leave, she was unsure as to what to do. This was the first time she had to perform any formal customs or duties as Lady Lannister. She looked at her husband with uncertainty.

"I'll come to you as soon as we're done," Jaime assured Lyra; subtly indicating to her that she should follow the Freys out of the hall.

* * *

Lyra wasn't sure as to where she was going as she followed the Freys. All she wanted to do was to get out of the hall where her cousin and aunt were violently murdered by such a disgusting, traitorous man. There were many ways out of the Great Hall so Lyra chose to exit through the door that the young Lady Frey, whom Lyra was certain to be younger than herself, had gone through earlier with the Lannister officers to find the steward.

Walking aimlessly through the corridors, horrible thoughts of Robb and Cat began to creep up on Lyra. They were frightful and guilty thoughts. Worst of all, Lyra began to think that had she been Queen in the North, the pain and humiliation that the honorable people of the North and Riverlands had suffered would not have happened. Which was indicated further when Lyra remembered the way the Freys mockingly called her the "would be Queen in the North".

Thankfully, the girl, Lady Frey, broke Lyra from her thoughts when she found her walking aimlessly in the corridors. Lady Frey took Lyra to a sitting room where another girl, who was close to Lyra's age, was sitting.

"Beg pardon Lady Lannister, but your rooms with Lord Lannister are not yet ready and your household is quiet scattered," the girl-lady told Lyra rather meekly. She then added that the other woman in the sitting room, "Lady Roslin", would entertain Lyra while she waited for the preparations to finish.

The door shutting behind Lady Frey, a silence ensued between the two ladies in the sitting room as they briefly stared at one another. Lady Roslin looked at Lyra curiously before some, seemingly, horrible realization washed over her pretty face. The Lady Roslin with a bundle in her arms making a tiny squeak as she began to stand to properly greet Lyra.

Realizing that the bundle in Lady Roslin's arms was an infant, Lyra quickly strode over to the other woman and stopped her from standing. "Lady Roslin, please sit. You have a babe in your arms," Lyra kindly smiled. She could tell that Lady Roslin was having difficulty standing, and Lyra would never expect a woman with her infant in her arms to stand.

"Thank you," Lady Roslin said almost breathlessly as she gingerly sat back down. "You are took kind Lady Lannister. And it's just Roslin, if it pleases you. I am no lady…" Roslin said this with watering eyes.

"Please, call me Lyra," she sat down next to the woman to look upon the bundle in her arms.

The babe appeared to be a boy, not much older than perhaps seven or nine months. He had thick auburn hair like Robb's, but the boy had more brown in his hair than the dead king. His eyes were a beautiful color of green-blue. They reminded Lyra of the sea.

"He's precious," Lyra smiled at the babe who opened his eyes, cooed, and happily smiled back at her. "What's his name?" Lyra attempeted to strike a conversation with Roslin about her babe since Lyra would be a mother soon as well.

Roslin hesitated a little before answering; "Brynden Tully, Lady Lyra." There was a palpable shame in Roslin's voice as she answered Lyra's question.

"Ah! So you're Lady Tully then?" Lyra smiled in an attempt to disarm the fearful girl- _why does she think I'd be upset about the fact that she's Edmure's wife?_

"I'm so sorry Lady Lyra," Roslin choked out. She still felt such shame over the wedding where her king had been killed, especially in front of the woman who should have been her queen. "Your cousin and aunt. My father and brothers, they made me do it," Roslin cried softly; tears running down her pale cheeks.

"No, no, Roslin," Lyra attempted to comfort the other woman. "There's no need for tears." Lyra pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her subject's tears so she wouldn't have to put down Brynden. "I'm sincerely happy to meet you, and there is no need to apologize or feel any shame. You did what you had to do in order to survive." Lyra comforted Roslin in the similar manner she'd comfort Sansa. She reminded Lyra so much of Sansa during her imprisonment in the Red Keep.

Just then though, Lady Frey came back into the sitting room to fetch Lyra. Leaving, Lyra asked Roslin if she could visit her and Brynden tomorrow.

At Lyra's request, Roslin initially looked perplexed, but smiled gratefully and accepted her request.

* * *

Coming into the room she'd be sharing with Jaime, Lyra was pleasantly surprised to find Ashara and Joyce. She had a happy reunion with her friends and handmaidens; though Joyce often annoyed Lyra, she did consider the Lannister handmaiden to be her friend as well as Ashara.

As the three ladies caught up, Lyra told her handmaidens of her adventures up North. At this, Ashara seemed to swell with pride at the fact that Lyra was living up to her Rhoynish ancestry; Joyce, on the other hand, was horrified at Lyra's supremely unlady-like actions, however, to her credit, she also seemed impressed with Lyra's relatively newfound skill in battle and conducting warfare. Of course, both were quite saddened at the death of Princess Meria, as was Lyra at the reminder of the fact that her mother was now gone forever.

Lyra, hearing her friends' stories about being at the Twins for so long, was not surprised to hear that Lord Walder, who was infamous for being such a lecherous old man, tried to fondle her handmaidens on many occasions. _It's no wonder that Lady Frey is so grim._

After having some Dream Wine with her handmaidens, Lyra bid them goodnight. Getting in the bed to settle in for the night, Lyra couldn't help but to revel in the creature comforts she had re-gained. Her pregnancy seemed to be approaching three months and she was beginning to feel some discomfort from traveling so much. Now though, she was wearing her soft, warm nightdress so she wouldn't have to be so cold as she slept, and she couldn't stop touching her soft, thickening hair, which was brushed quiet thoroughly by Ashara and Joyce.

Not long after Lyra got into bed, Jaime came in. Armor off, he washed his hands and face in the basin before stripping and climbing into bed with Lyra.

Feeling the effects of the Dream Wine, along with Jaime stroking her soft hair, Lyra situated herself so she could lay in the crook of his arm and rest her head on his chest and shoulder.

"Quite the display of hostility you showed Walder Frey," Jaime began. Though he found the verbal spar between his lady wife and Walder Frey to be funny, it worried him nonetheless. Lyra had been visibly displeased with the Lord of the Crossing for murdering traitors to the crown, and Jaime feared that with Cersei behaving so unstable, Lyra's words to the Freys may get back to the queen who was looking for an excuse to have her killed.

"I'm sorry," Lyra apologized; she was so consumed by rage at the traitor that she'd forgotten herself as well as Lord Walder.

"No need to apologize to me, I'm not particularly fond of Walder either; but you need to be safe, Lyra, He kept referring to you as the 'Would be Wolf Queen'," Jaime kissed her. "If someone ever came for your head and I lost you," Lyra knew that he was talking about Cersei, "I think I'd lose myself."

At this, Lyra felt guilty and reassured Jaime that she would do her best to be gracious and _Lady Lannister_ instead of the _Lone Wolf_. "How long will you be here before going to Riverrun?" Lyra asked. She wanted to know how long Jaime planned to stay before leaving and how long he'd be gone while she waited with these _people_.

"No need to worry about the Freys, Lyra," Jaime heard the apprehension over his leaving in her voice. "I've decided that it would be best to take you with me, along with our house hold. We will all be traveling together from now on until we reach the Rock." He heard Lyra let out a sigh of relief before wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him before snuggling back into his side.

* * *

 **Next: Lyra speaks with Roslin about the Red Wedding, Jaime discusses strategy for taking Riverrun, and Lyra makes an odd request.**


	35. Chapter 35: Lady Tully

**AN: I know I said that I was scrapping this fic and just work on the re-write, _The Rise of the Lone Wolf_ , but idk, I guess perhaps the new season has renewed my interest in at completing this fic with complete chapters instead of summaries with chapter. However, most of my energy will stay directed towards the re-write. **

**Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 35: Lady Tully**

She didn't understand why she couldn't continue to participate in the war councils like she had been for the past two months.

 _Lyra, Cersei was already quite "touched" when I last saw her in King's Landing. Her trial will only unhinge her even more. She_ will _eventually know about what happened in the North; and depending on her mood, she could summon you for an inquiry into possible treason. She_ still _wants Sansa, and she will not be pleased when she hears how you simply left her in the North, regardless as to why. We already have enough problems, and letting into the council will only create more problems._

Jaime had argued with Lyra that morning regarding the subject. When she argued further, Jaime told her that as her lord husband he couldn't allow for it.

 _All that aside,_ Jaime added; putting a hand over his lady wife's belly. _You need to_ rest _, Lyra,_ he gently scolded her. _You're in a serious condition. All of that hard riding and fighting you did during your journey North is hard on your body and you need to stay healthy for your sake and the babe's._

When he saw Lyra beginning to relent, Jaime asked his pregnant wife to please simply relax and rest until they got to the Rock. At this, she finally relented and agreed to her lord husband's request to not get herself worked up about battle.

After Jaime left that morning to speak with the Freys about taking Riverrun, Lyra went back to sleep with Meraxes curled up beside her, asleep as well.

Ashara had been taking care of Meraxes since Lyra left the Trident. Life had gotten so hectic though that Lyra had forgotten about her beloved old cat until Ashara brought him to her and Jaime's chamber that morning. Lyra felt so terrible about forgetting Meraxes that she played with him until they both grew too drowsy.

Waking from her nap to the midday sun, Lyra stretched and decided that she should dress when her handmaidens came in with food for her midday meal.

Remembering her mother, Lyra felt bittersweet as she smiled at how her mother would be horrified that it was midday and Lyra still wasn't dressed.

 _I miss you mother_ —Lyra felt her eyes sting at this. Her children would never know any of their grandparents. They'd never see how beautiful and gentle Lady Joanna was nor how brilliant and shrewd Lord Tywin was; and they'd never see how fierce but loving Lord Brandon was nor how much the elegant Princess Meria loved to laugh and make everyone around her smile. Most importantly though, Lyra and Jaime's children will never know their grandparents' love. Despite Lord Tywin's stoic almost irritable demeanor and behavior, Lyra knew that he loved Jaime in his own way- _he would have loved Jaime's children too. They're the future of House Lannister and carrying Tywin's legacy_. Their children would carry the name Lannister, not Baratheon like Cersei's, and they'd be born through the Golden Lion of Lannister. _Tywin's love may have been shallow, but he would have loved the grandchildren whom he'd never know._

Having only been at the Twins for a day and North for over a month, Lyra pre-occupied herself with trying to find her clothes and possessions that had been packed away. Riffling through her wardrobe once she'd found it, Lyra began choosing a dress. Being in the Riverlands, and thus, unable to stop thinking about Sansa and Robb and the Tullys, Lyra found herself being drawn to a light blue dress. Simple, yet elegant, the dress reminded her of the Tullys and Roslin.

Getting an idea, Lyra decided that she would spend the remainder of the day with Lady Tully. Lyra couldn't help but to be endlessly curious about the woman who Robb refused to marry and catalyzed his and his kingdom's demise during the War of Five Kings.

Looking at the dress, Lyra decided to take a leaf out of Sansa's book— _If I have to be here among these_ _ **cravens**_ _, then I can at least make them feel uncomfortable in their own home._ Finding her sewing kit, Lyra found a needle and thread and began her work.

The stitching didn't take long; by the time Lyra was done stitching the sigil on the dress, Ashara and Joyce came with midday meal. It was fish, which Lyra wasn't surprised to see, but happy to have. She found it odd that she didn't have cravings during her first pregnancy, but she was definitely having them now. Smelling the cooked trout with potatoes and thyme, Lyra dug in hungrily while vaguely wondering if the Freys were trying to slight her by feeding her trout; the sigil of House Tully.

Ashara nudged Joyce before the latter said something to Lyra about her manners while eating. Their lady was pregnant and she hadn't been eating enough for Ashara's taste, as well as Lord Lannister's considering that he'd asked his wife's handmaiden that morning to make sure that Lyra ate well and ate everything on her plate; Ashara felt that Lyra should simply be left alone to wolf down her food if she was that hungry, especially since they were alone.

As Lyra ate, she could hear her two handmaidens moving about behind her. Looking out the window from across the table, she admired the beauty of the river. All while she waited for her handmaidens' response once they saw her new stitching on her blue dress. She got it when she heard a gasp from, which she assumed to be, Joyce.

"Lady Lannister," Joyce said to Lyra; shocked. "The Freys are hosting the Lannisters at the moment. Won't they take this offensively?" Joyce pointed to the red Stark direwolf that Lyra had just finished stitching onto the blue dress.

Though the red direwolf could be mistaken for Lyra's solidarity with her own house as well as her husband's, the dress was meant to be a statement of solidarity with the North and the Tullys—the true lords of the Trident. "If they do, who cares?" Even Ashara looked taken aback at Lyra's sudden impetuousness towards the Freys. Her exchange with Lord Walder Frey the other night had been bold, but there was a point to it. This however, Lyra's new goal to subtly slight House Frey as much as possible, had no actual purpose that for her to bother Lord Walder and his cowardly sons.

This made Lyra think for a moment; since when had she become so headstrong and petulant? It was odd, but it had certainly made Lyra grow and become stronger. She supposed that it all began when Cersei attempted to kill her in King's Landing, but was catalyzed by her time as a general of her own portion of the Lannister army.

"The Freys are nothing but cravens," Lyra told the disgruntled blonde. "They'd have nothing without House Lannister backing them." With an iron voice, she turned to the Lannister handmaiden; "If anything, House Frey should be concerned with offending _us_ , not the other way."

Ashara and Joyce backed down and began to clear the table before helping Lyra dress for the day—well, what was left of it. Since winter was coming, the sun was leaving earlier and earlier. Now, it went down so early that they all had to sup in the night instead of the evening.

* * *

It took Lyra's handmaidens some time to track Lady Tully down; but they eventually found her with the other Frey girls in the Sewing Room.

Gathering her sewing kit, Lyra took this perfect opportunity to get to know Roslin Tully, and also to make blankets and swaddling clothes for her babe.

Grabbing her cloak— _the hallways feel so cold now that winter is coming_ —Lyra walked down the drafty hallway. There were blue tapestries, probably made by the Frey women, over the windows in an attempt at helping with the draft in the hallways. Turning a corner, Lyra came upon a rather large door with a long, curled handle. It even looked well used as she could see some of the brass rubbing off from years of frequent use,

Entering a large room, it appeared as if every last Frey woman had gathered there to work on their various projects together. As Lyra surveyed the room looking for Lady Tully, it felt like she was looking through a sea of grey Frey women, all in various different chairs as if the room had run out of chairs; so to remedy this issue, they'd simply brought less used chairs from various parts of the castle.

They Frey women were certainly not an attractive group, but they were nothing but kind and welcoming to Lyra. As she passed them, most of the Frey women stopped their work and turned to Lyra to either nod or smile.

The young Lady Frey even stood up to formally welcome Lyra to their sewing circle before asking the servants to bring her a chair in order for her to sit next to Lady Tully.

"Lady Lannister," Roslin addressed Lyra with a smile as she knit a blue-grey woolen cap for Brynden. The little boy was in a basket sitting next to his mother, asleep.

"Lady Tully," Lyra addressed Roslin, who seemed taken aback by being referred to by her title— _it's almost as if nobody believes that she'd Lady Tully_.

The two sat in relative silence as the other ladies chatted away, however, Lyra thought it to be a comfortable silence. She simply enjoyed the company for a change. Roslin then began humming a familiar tune that Lyra had heard Aunt Cat sometimes sing to the girls when they were little.

While Roslin hummed and knitted, Lyra took out her sewing kit, but she couldn't decide on Lannister or Stark themes.

Though she had made blankets and swaddling clothes during her previous pregnancy, she had thrown them all out. Lyra, emotional and angry with herself over falling into Cersei's trap, threw them out because they kept reminding her of the babe she should have never lost. _Except for the ones Mother made_ —the only articles that had been spared from Lyra's emotional outburst were all in Martell colors and themes. One was a blanket with a golden sun stitched onto a red velvet field, it was similar to the one Lyra had when she was little.

Deciding on a blanket with a black Stark direwolf stitched onto a crimson field, Lyra then got to work as well. The color theme she'd chosen reminded her of her warrior garb. _The babe is just as much mine as it is Jaime's; why should I be judged for wrapping my own babe in a blanket made with my personal sigil?_ Lyra may be the Lone Wolf, but she was House Lannister's— _the house in which my children will belong_.

After a while, little Brynden awoke from his nap so Roslin had to stop her knitting. Trying to soothe Byrnden, she began humming again as she rocked him gently in her chair.

Lyra couldn't help but to smile, "He looks so much like Robb." Growing up, Lyra had often heard that Robb looked like Aunt Cat's little brother, Edmure Tully; but Lyra had yet to meet Edmure, thus Brynden looked more like Robb to her.

At Lyra's words, Roslin seemed as if she could only star at Lyra, speechless. "He certainly has the Tully features, Lady Lannister." Roslin's response worried Lyra— _Her words and responses remind me of Sansa when she was in King's Landing. It's as if she'd simply saying what she thinks I want to hear_.

"Roslin," Lyra tried to comfort the other woman by putting her hand on her shoulder. "I'm married to a Lannister, but that doesn't mean I'm like Tywin or Cersei. It's okay for you to talk to me about Robb and Edmure. There's no need to be afraid." Lyra chose her words carefully; though Roslin seemed kind, Lyra still did not know her well enough to trust her.

At the mention of Robb and Edmure, Roslin looked down in shame.

Lyra had heard a little of what happened to everyone at the Red Wedding; including what Roslin's awful father ordered her to do. "Don't feel ashamed for doing what you had to do," she attempted to assure Roslin, whose face reddened at the memory.

"Is your father cruel to you Lady Roslin?" Lyra asked quietly.

Though Roslin never explicitly answered the question, Lyra could tell from the way the other woman looked.

 _I can't let them stay here…_ Lyra decided then and there that the woman who reminded her so much of Sansa was coming to the Rock with herself and Jaime.

* * *

Around suppertime, Lyra invited Lady Roslin to dine with herself, Lord Lannister, and Walder Frey. When the other woman tried to protest, saying that she needed to care for her babe, Lyra had her handmaidens take care of little Bryden.

"They can take care of him for you, Lady Roslin. I must insist that you come join us for supper!" Lyra exclaimed.

Roslin looked a little apprehensive at first, but she eventually relented when Lyra swore that all would be fine.

Sitting at the table, Roslin and Lyra chatted away while they waited for Jaime and Walder. Like Lyra, Roslin was also more of a singer than a dancer.

The song Roslin had been humming earlier was a hymn about the Father. The very hymn their family would sing to them to comfort both girls about losing their mother in Roslin's case and father in Lyra's case. The hymn was about the Father and his divine, but merciful and understanding judgment of the dead.

"My older sister, Walda, used to sing the hymn to me when I couldn't sleep because I was grieving for mama," Roslin admitted to Lyra. Both women had more than a glass of wine as they waited for the men, and it was causing Roslin in particular to be more social. "I suppose Walda was the closest person to a mother I ever had," Roslin added, fondly remembering her kind older sister. It was known among the Frey women that what Walda lacked in beauty, she made up for a thousand times in kindness.

"But now she's gone…" Roslin's beautiful blue-grey eyes watered at the memory that her sister died brutally at the hands off her own stepson, Ramsey.

Lyra, giving Roslin a handkerchief so she could wipe her eyes, changed the topic of conversation to knitting.

As they began discussing the different types of fabrics to use depending on the weather, Jaime and Walder finally arrived. Lord Walder barely acknowledged his own daughter's unexpected presence before taking his seat. Jaime and Lyra greeted each other warmly before taking their seats.

The table conversation was pleasant enough, that is until Lord Frey began boasting of his achievements. Upon this, Jaime looked annoyed and Lyra simply conversed with Roslin in an attempt to quell her growing anger as the topic switched to the Red Wedding.

Lyra was listening to Roslin talk about how Brynden was trying to say words when Lord Walder interrupted.

"Of course, the Red Wedding couldn't have gone as well as it did without our Ros, here," Lord Walder addressed Roslin.

"I knew she wasn't beautiful for nothing. Lord Edmure was so distracted by her that he didn't even notice his king being murdered in the Great Hall until our guards came to take him in chains." At this rather public revelation, Roslin looked down in shame.

At this, Lyra stood indignantly, and stormed out of the room, taking Roslin with her. "Come Lady Tully," Lyra took her arm in a friendly manner. " We don't have to stay in the company of a craven," Lyra snapped at Walder Frey.

"Call me a craven all you want girl! At least _I_ took what was mine instead of leaving my seat to those it doesn't belong to," Lord Walder barked.

For the first time, Lyra was thankful not to have something sharp on her.

When she came back to her and Jaime's room early, Lyra took out Night's Queen and began practicing with it. With each swing, she tried to imagine that she was cutting off Lord Walder's head.

Tiring, Lyra put her sword away in time for her handmaidens to help her ready for bed.

By the time Ashara and Joyce were done, the hour was growing late and Lyra was surprised that Jaime had yet to return. Taking out a book Lord Tywin had given her about the history of the Rock, Lyra read about her future home while she waited for Jaime in bed. One passage in particular caught Lyra's eye:

 _In fact, Casterly Rock is reputed as being so fortified that Queen Visenya Targaryen was relieved when the last King of the Rock yielded to her and her brother-husband because she feared that Dragon fire couldn't penetrate the natural walls of the fortress._

Hearing the door open, Lyra put her book away and greeted Jaime.

"Quite a scene you made at dinner," Jaime lightly commented. Jaime had no doubt that Walder Frey was being intentionally rude to Lyra.

"I cannot believe we are allies with these people," Lyra told him with both shock and anger.

"I know," Jaime admitted; even his father was not terribly keen on allying with the "Late Walder Frey". The Freys have never been known for their military prowess or their bravery in battle. They were a house full of people whom were more or less cravens and swindlers. "Allies is a loose term for them too. What's the point in being allies with a house when they can't even hold their own castles?" Jaime didn't like Walder anymore than Lyra, and after his wife had left the dinner table, Jaime told the Lord of the Crossing, himself, how craven of him and his house it was to kill the Northmen in the manner they did.

Lyra thought aloud to herself about how she couldn't allow the Tullys to stay under the watch of the Freys. Especially since Lord Walder is such a manipulative opportunist with no honor.

Before they turned in for the night, Lord and Lady Lannister had a glass of Dream Wine and spoke about their day. Apparently, the Freys were so incompetent at sieging that they were threatening to kill Edmure should his uncle, Brynden, not yield the castle; and they still couldn't take the castle!

"Not only that but they're stupid enough to not follow through with their own threats. Lord Walder and his sons are both stupid and cruel; a terrible combination," he added, draining his wine.

After Lyra spoke to Jaime of her day with Roslin, she figured now was the best time to ask Jaime since they were already on the topic of Lord Walder's cruelty and stupidity.

"I'd like to invite Roslin and her son, Brynden Tully, to stay with us as our guests at the Rock."

When Jaime asked her why, Lyra told him the truth; Lord Walder and the Freys are cruel and incompetent, and as the Wardeness of the West and wife of the Frey's liege lord, she could not allow for a woman and child under her protection to stay in such a place.

Jaime seemed as if he were about to tell her no so she added, "the Freys are clearly power grubbers, and like you said; what's the point in them being our allies if we have to constantly save them or retake their own castles? Despite the Freys being the new Lords of the Trident, the people of the Riverlands will clearly follow any Tully over the freys given the fact that there's still so much resistance against them here."

Jaime sighed; he was tired and stressed so he was not in the mood to argue with Lyra as to why it would be a problem. "I'll think about it," he said in an attempt to pacify her for the night.

* * *

 **Next: _Riverrun_ \- Jaime forces Walder Frey's hand, the Lannisters travel to Riverrun, Jaime treats with the Balckfish, and Lyra meets Edmure and faces the fallout of her past choices. **


	36. Chapter 36: The Last of Them

**Author's Note: I'm back! Hopefully I can get work and school under control so I can update more often! Also, I'd like to add that I had this fic storyboarded out before the most recent season, so the developments after season 6 will not be influencing this story! And thank you DarylDixon's Lover for your review!**

 **I'd also like to give a special thanks to 's wonderful reviews! I'm so happy that you are enjoying my story and I hope that I will not disappoint!**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 36: The Last of Them**

Jaime wasn't surprised when he realized that he'd awoken before Lyra; when she was with child, he'd learned that she'd be asleep still long after he'd awoken. He never minded this, in fact, he often found himself enjoying moments like these.

Usually when he awoke these days, he'd let his eyes adjust before finding Lyra. Usually, he'd find her curled up against him, holding his torso. Dark, thick hair messy from sleep, covering most of his lady wife's face. As she was still asleep, he'd carefully pull her closer to himself and hold her. As she still slept in his arms, he'd usually close his eyes and allow his mind to wander, as Jaime too would occasionally find himself dozing.

 _This_ morning though, he couldn't get his mind off of one topic: Roslin Tully. He didn't really understand his lady wife's determination to know and protect the wife of Edmure Tully.

 _I was to be their queen_ —Lyra kept telling Jaime when he asked her why she cared so much about what happened to the Tullys. Perhaps Jaime's lady wife realized that had Dorne not forced Lyra to break her oath and if she were Robb's queen, then the North may not have lost the war. _Though Dorne is not particularly known for their manpower, their warriors are quite fearsome—_ Indeed, some of the greatest warriors Jaime had ever seen, like his deceased King's Guard brother, Ser Arthur Dayne, were dornish. Cunning, swift and fierce was the typical dornish soldier, and they hated Lannisters.

Thinking back on Roslin Tully, Jaime began to realize that the girl could potentially be quite useful should certain things occur in the future. _Perhaps the presence of Lady Tully and the heir to House Tully could help speed negotiations along? The Blackfish and Edmure Tully may have a change of heart when they realize that the future of their house is in the hands of the Freys._ As Jaime was planning with the Freys on how to take Riverrun, he'd heard from Walder that the Blackfish was mostly holding the castle because he felt the future of his house depended on it. Not only that, but Jaime had heard rumors from the Freys themselves about how the Riverlands was revolting against them as their liege lords; the Riverlands, as a whole, was still loyal to House Tully.

The more Jaime though about Lord Walder and the Freys, the more he realized that it would be too dangerous to let them have so much power. _The Freys have already proven themselves to be treacherous cravens…to give them the Tullys would solidify their rule in the Riverlands_ —As Jaime was slipping into his role as Lord Lannister and Warden of the West, he was beginning to find himself thinking more and more like his late father, Lord Tywin. Thinking on the matter further, Jaime decided that it would be best for the Tullys to stay with them at the Rock rather than stay with Lord Walder. He reasoned that Lord Walder would likely use his own grandson to further his political gains and possibly revolt against the Crown and/or the West. Jaime couldn't allow that to happen…

Making up his mind, Jaime watched as the rising winter sun turned the room from purple to orange. When the sun had completely risen, Jaime gently roused Lyra from her sleep. Lyra, still exhausted from going so long without a proper night's sleep, slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes before adjusting them and fully awakening from sleep.

"Is it morning already?" Lyra yawned.

"I'm afraid so," Jaime answered her. He, like Lyra, was not looking foreword to the long day ahead of them.

Lyra and Jaime slowly awoke before getting out of bed together. Both of them were dressed by the time Joyce and Ashara came in, Jaime left to speak to Walder while Lyra stayed to pack for the road. Right as Jaime was leaving, she remembered Roslin.

"I'll give her a good offer as an incentive to come with us," Jaime assured his wife as he told her his plan.

"What if Lord Walder refuses and keeps her here?" Lyra, having been a Stark under the protection of her mother's house knew of the intricacies of how much power women in hers and Roslin's position could have. Since Roslin was under the protection of House Frey, despite now being a Tully, Lyra was afraid that the other lady would feel obliged to stay at the Twins if her father wanted her to; and Lyra doubted that Lord Walder would let Brynden and Roslin Tully go without a fight. Walder may be a craven, but he was no fool; she was certain that the Lord of the Crossing knew how valuable his grandson is.

Reassuringly, Jaime kissed Lyra on her forehead and told her not to worry before leaving her and her handmaidens to their work.

* * *

"I will not allow it!" Walder Frey snapped at Jaime, outraged.

"Do you forget yourself, _my lord_?" Jaime responded threateningly. He then reminded Lord Frey that the only reason Lord Walder was now Lord of the Trident was because of the deal he struck with Lord Tywin; and adding the fact that the Lannisters had been called by the Freys to take Riverrun for them, the Lannisters were now the Frey's liege lords. Therefore, Jaime was not _asking_ for Roslin Tully, he was _ordering_ the Freys to give her up.

"She's _my daughter_ and he's _my grandson_!" Walder argued back.

"Neither of whom are part of House Frey; both mother and son are now part of House Tully, and if I remember correctly, Edmure is still the head of House Tully," Jaime knew that it was a rather weak argument as Edmure's betrayal of the Crown put his legitimacy as head of House Tully into question; however, Edmure's betrayal arguably made Roslin Lady Regent for her infant son, the recognized head of House Tully. Therefore, Roslin Tully could make her own decisions for herself and her son.

"Lady Tully," Jaime turned to Roslin again, ignoring Walder. "The choice is yours; _you_ are now Lady Regent of House Tully until your son comes of age due to your husband's betrayal," Jaime was trying to make it clear to Roslin that she was no longer under her father's control. "Come with us or no; you and your son are our guests, not our prisoners," he assured Roslin, whose face looked as if she was beginning to relent. "Come with us and you'll have my word that you and your son will be provided for. Your husband will also be accompanying us to the Rock as our political prisoner, but he will be treated as well as his rank dictates, and you and your son will be able to visit him." Jaime hoped this would entice Roslin.

" _I_ captured Edmure Tully! He's _my prisoner_!" Walder roared indignantly.

"We will take him by force if we must, Lord Frey," Jaime threatened. "And if that should happen, I'm afraid that I will have to write my sister and nephew that House Frey is not obeying their liege lords."

As Walder backed down, grumbling to himself, Jaime turned back to Roslin; "Again Lady Tully, you are being invited to be my lady wife's long-term guest at the Rock. Come if you wish, my lady wife will be more than happy to have you and your family, or don't come if you wish; you have free choice in the matter, as is your prerogative as the head of House Tully until your son comes of age," Jaime was trying to stress to Roslin that she had the power to break free from her oppressive family if she wished. "Which also means that you may leave the Rock any time you wish, and come back anytime you wish. You may even make trips back to the Twins should you wish to see your family." Explaining Lady Tully's new position of power to her (her family likely had not, given the fact that she acted as if she had absolutely no power) seemed to seal the deal. Jaime saw the girl, whom Lyra mentioned seemed desperate to escape her awful father and brothers, relent as she made up her mind.

Uncomfortable with the first choice she must make as the head of House Tully for her son, Roslin looked at her father. "Don't do it, girl," Walder threatened his daughter.

Lady Tully then turned back to Jaime. They locked eyes for a moment before Roslin nodded her head; "I'll go to my room and pack immediately. Thank you, Lord Lannister," she curtseyed in gratitude.

"Good," Jaime slightly smiled. "My lady wife will be happy to have you and your boy," he welcomed the timid woman. "My men would be happy to accompany you to your chambers and assist you in packing for the road." Jaime brought three of his most frightening captains to help Lady Tully in case Walder or the Freys attempted to intimidate the lady into staying at the Twins.

After Roslin left the Great Hall to pack, Walder came down from his seat and walked towards Jaime. "Don't make me write to the king, _boy_ ," Walder spat. "Edmure is _my_ prisoner, fair and square," he continued to threaten Jaime.

"No Lord Walder, don't make _me_ write to the king, _my nephew_ ," Jaime was tired of Lord Walder's shit. "Don't forget that insubordination is ground for beheading if the king feels up to it, and you should also know that my sister is quite tired of you. Believe me, the Crown knows how craven and useless House Frey is. My sister was even talking of how the Crown may actually be better off without you."

* * *

Lyra was angry. NO! She was more than just angry, she was _incensed_!

"My lord husband ordered you to do what again?" Lyra asked the Lannister captain in front of her.

"I was ordered by Lord Lannister to ensure that you ride in the carriage," the burly knight answered her bluntly.

"What is your name again, Ser?" She asked irritably.

"Ser Davon Lannister, my Lady," the longhaired, large knight said with an all-knowing grin.

 _How many fucking Lannisters are there?!_ Ser Davon must have seen the irksome look on Lyra's face because he then chimed in; "There _is_ a lot of us, Lady Lannister," Ser Davon chuckled warmly. "Your lord husband has many cousins, but don't worry, you'll get used to us just as your good aunt, Dorna Swift."

 _Dorna Swift?_ _Jaime's aunt? Who's she married to then?_ However, Lyra pushed these thoughts aside.

Lyra protested Ser Davon further by demanding as Lady Lannister that a nearby squire ready her horse immediately, unfortunately, Ser Davon remained a thorn in her side by stopping the lad. As Lyra and Ser Davon argued back and forth, she actually felt sorry for the poor squire. He seemed genuinely confused as to whether he should obey Lyra's orders as Lady Lannister or Ser Davon's orders and authority given to him by Lord Lannister.

"Please, my lady, it will be more comfortable and safe for you in the carriage," Ser Davon attempted. "Also," he added rather sheepishly. "With all due respect Lady Lannister, these _are_ orders from you lord husband himself."

Lyra only grew angrier when she realized that Jaime was _ordering her_ in the carriage. However, that all dissipated when she suddenly saw Roslin Tully approaching her.

"Lady Lannister," Roslin politely curtseyed to Lyra before climbing into the carriage with Brynden in her arms.

Lyra could only stare, perplexed, as Jaime walked to her.

"You two should get to know each other," Jaime said to his lady wife before climbing onto Honor, grinning.

Though Lyra knew that Jaime had only done what he thought would make her happy, she was still angry with him— _He knows that courtesy dictates that I cannot be a bad hostess_. Jaime was using Roslin's presence to force her into the carriage; which was making Lyra regret requesting that Roslin and Brynden accompany them to the Rock. However, she put on her smile nonetheless and climbed into the carriage with her guests.

They rode all day with no break and didn't reach Riverrun until only a couple of hours before dusk. The carriage ride was thankfully not too bad though, but Lyra still couldn't wait to get out so she could see what was going on. On their way to Riverrun, Roslin and Lyra chatted about their childhoods. They found out that they both loved the water, just different kinds of water. Roslin loved swimming in and looking at the beauty of the rivers, whilst Lyra loved the sea. Remembering that Casterly Rock overlooked the Sunset Sea, Lyra wondered if her children would grow to love the sea too. Then, she began to wonder if Jaime loved the sea as she did; he hadn't told her many stories about his childhood. In fact, during their ride to Riverrun, when Lyra politely averted her gaze to look out the window as to let Roslin feed Brynden with relative privacy, Lyra began to have visions of her children with Jaime; she imagined children with dark hair and gold hair with the various eye colors and features of the Starks, Lannisters and Martells playing in the Sunset Sea.

As Lyra stepped out of the carriage, Roslin and Brynden went with some of the Lannister guards, while she stayed with Jaime. Realizing that though the siege was a joke, Lyra still couldn't help herself from instinctively putting a protective hand over her own belly.

 _I want my armor_ —No matter how uncomfortable her armor was when she was pregnant, Lyra didn't care; her only concern was protecting the life inside of her.

As Bronn and Jaime dismounted, Jaime looked quite irritated as they looked over the hill at the sorry excuse for a siege on Riverrun.

"Are things worse than Lord Frey let on?" Lyra asked, though she already knew the answer. She'd heard from her handmaidens and Jaime that the Freys were failing miserably to take Riverrun, and now she could see why.

As Jaime affirmed Lyra's question, he scanned the area, that's when he saw Edmure.

A noose around his neck, Edmure also had a knife to his throat as one of the Freys shouted at the Blackfish. The Blackfish, of course, called the Freys on their bluff.

 _Fools…_ Jaime understood more and more why his father was constantly irritated with his own vassals.

"Craven bastards," Lyra swore under her breath and the despicable display.

"Let's go say hello, shall we?" Jaime offered his arm to a grinning Lyra. As Lord and Lady Lannister casually walked up to the Frey brothers, as if they weren't even at a siege, Bronn walked slightly behind them, laughing with the Lannister captains.

 _Gods be Good!_ Lyra gasped when she saw the full extent of the Frey's "siege" on Riverrun. _If it even deserves to be called a siege…_

Jaime was equally baffled— _No trenches, no proper look outs, no towers?_ Jaime couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was no wonder there was nobody to greet them when they arrived.

"Someone ought to teach them how to properly build trenches," Bronn said casually as they approached Black Walder and his brother, Lothar.

"Yes," Jaime responded, looking at Bronn carefully. " _Someone_ should."

"Oh no! Oh no!" Bronn protested when he realized what Jaime was implying. "When I agreed to come, you promised me a castle with a high born beauty for a wife—"

" _You_ are an anointed knight by the authority of House Lannister," Jaime countered.

"You promised him what now?" Lyra asked curiously.

However, their squabble was cut short when the Frey brothers began approaching them with Lord Edmure. They saw the Frey brothers irritably yank a dirty Edmure from the ground after he'd fallen into the mud. Thankfully, Edmure looked relatively unharmed.

"Lothar is it?" Jaime interrupted the squabbling Frey brothers. He wanted to get done with Riverrun as fast as possible.

"Lord Lannister!" Lothar looked surprised. "Lady Lannister!" Lothar and his brother turned white when they realized how Lyra and Jaime just casually approached them, unchallenged, during a siege.

"We had no idea you were coming," the Frey brothers stumbled over themselves.

"That's because you didn't set up a proper perameter," Jaime scolded them.

"You've just allowed an army of 8,000 men to approach you unchallenged. Are you lazy or just stupid?" Lyra asked the embarrassed Frey brothers.

"Good thing we're here to help, or we'd be fucking you in the ass right now," Bronn couldn't help but to interject. The Frey stupidity was unbelievable to him.

"Have Lord Edmure bathed and fed," Jaime suddenly ordered. It was bad enough that the Freys weren't carrying out their threats; they weren't even treating Edmure as his rank dictated. It was undignified for the Lannsiters to even be a part of it, just helping them take Riverrun was embarrassing enough for Jaime.

As Jaime began giving orders to his captains to organize a treat with the Blackfish and set up a proper siege, the Frey brothers began to recover.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! This is our siege! We're in charge here!" Black Walder yelled at Jaime indignantly. " Edmure is our prisoner. House Frey's prisoner!"

 _This again?_ Jaime was quickly losing patience with the craven Walder Frey and his sons.

Lyra knew something was about to happen when she saw Jaime get that fed up look in his eyes when those words came out of Black Walder's mouth. A look that wasn't that dissimilar to the late Lord Tywin's when he was about to force someone's hand out of anger.

"Only a fool makes threats he's not prepared to carry out," Jaime responded coldly, but calmly. "Now," Jaime continued, "let's say I threatened to hit you unless you shut your mouth, but you kept talking. What do you think I'd do?" Jaime finished rather menacingly. It was as if he _wanted_ Black Walder to say something.

Jaime got his wish.

"I don't give a rat's—" Black Walder spat before Jaime suddenly back-handed him with his gold hand.

Bronn laughed out loud as Lothar struggled to help his brother back to his feet. Lyra even savored a smug smile, but she tried not to laugh, as Jaime looked quite irritated.

"I'm here by the King's command to take back this castle," Jaime told the Frey brothers firmly. "And Lord Edmure is now House Lannister's prisoner," he continued. "Now, have Lord Edmure bathed and fed before you hand him over to my captains," Jaime ordered the Frey brothers again. "Unless of course, you'd like to take his place."

As the Frey brothers got up, they practically stumbled over themselves again, apologizing and saying that House Frey was at House Lannister's service.

As the Freys walked past Jaime and Lyra with Lord Edmure, the fallen Lord Tully and Robb's would be queen briefly locked eyes. Lyra saw a broken man in those eyes…

Lyra was too lost in thought to hear Jaime taking over the siege until Bronn mentioned the Blackfish. Being broken from her own thoughts, Lyra felt terror as she realized that Bronn could be right; the Blackfish may challenge Jaime to a duel her lord husband may not be able to win yet.

Terrified for her husband's life, Lyra interjected without thinking; "Let me accompany you. I was supposed to marry Robb before my uncles made me break my oath; _and_ I've known the Blackfish since I was a girl. He used to come and visit Aunt Cat." Lyra also hoped that by allowing her to accompany Jaime, she being a Stark would make the Blackfish more inclined to retain civility when dealing with her husband.

Jaime, signaling Bronn to go on ahead, waited until he was alone with Lyra before speaking. "Lyra," he began, reaching for her protectively. "I can't risk it." He didn't think he'd ever be the same again if he ever lost Lyra. "Also, we have more than just your safety to worry about," he put his hand over his lady wife's slightly rounded belly.

Lyra helped set up the tent with Ashara while Joyce helped Roslin set up hers on Lyra's command. Roslin, having seen her own husband being threatened and frightened by her own brothers was visibly shaken. Right now, she, like Lyra, was trying to occupy herself to help ease her anxiety about her husband's life.

 _Surely Bronn will intervene if the Blackfish tries to duel or kill Jaime. Jaime owes him too much—_ Lyra hoped as she got out her garb to wear while she watched Jaime treat with the Blackfish. Though Jaime wouldn't let her accompany him to treat with Ser Brynden, he'd let her have her armor back. That is, as long as her armor wasn't hurting her or restricting her waist.

"Lady Lannister," Ser Davon suddenly entered Lyra and Jaime's tent. "It's time."

Putting on her armor, Lyra then followed Ser Davon out to the safe spot they'd be observing the treat from.

Getting comfortable, Lyra sat down on the soft grass while she waited with Ser Davon and two other Lannister knights. The edge of this particular trench was the closest Jaime would allow Lyra to the castle. Waiting, Lyra suddenly shot up from where she was standing; startling a dozing Ser Davon. She saw Jaime riding Honor with Bronn and two captains before dismounting and crossing the now lowered drawbridge.

Lyra had her hand on Night's Queen as she nervously watched Jaime and the Blackfish exchange a few words before the Blackfish re-treated back into Riverrun and Jaime mounted Honor, riding back to the Lannister camp.

Confused as to why the negotiations lasted less than five minutes, Lyra quickly jumped out of the trench and ran to the camp to meet Jaime.

"Lady lannister! Lady Lannister!" Ser Davon and the captains scrambled out of the trench after her. However, Lyra didn't hear them as she nearly ran into multiple Lannister men in the camp.

"What happened?" Lyra ran up to Jaime as he dismounted from Honor. "What did he say?" A thousand questions came pouring out of her mouth.

Jaime, irritated and exhausted, motioned to dismiss his men before he and Lyra walked into a rather large tent that looked to be functioning as a war council.

Sighing, Jaime tiredly got both himself and his wife a glass and filled them with wine. Giving Lyra her wine, he finally spoke. "We may be here for a while," he sipped his wine as he observed Lyra's face upon hearing this news.

At this, Lyra slowly sipped her wine, letting the information sink in. "We aren't going to storm the castle will we?" She asked concerned; if Lyra allowed the Lannisters to kill any of the Tullys, she didn't think Sansa would ever forgive her…

"No, I don't think we will," Jaime answered, rubbing his eyes. Night had just fallen and he was as exhausted as he looked. The idea he had earlier, however, sprung back into his head.

"How well do you think you know the late King Robb's men?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sorry for making the scene with Jaime and the Frey brothers so long! It's just that it's one of the funniest scenes in Game of Thrones.**

 **Next: Lyra and Jaime concoct a strategy to end the siege, an unexpected visitor arrives, and Roslin finally speaks with Edmure.**


	37. Chapter 37: The Blackfish

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry for the late update! This is a long chapter with a lot of content so it took a little more time. I'd also like to thank Fyen, Aryan778, and Adam R. for their wonderful reviews!**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 37: The Blackfish**

Though Jaime's treat with the Blackfish had been less than optimal, it had allowed Lyra a seat on her lord husband's war council. However, Lyra was also acutely aware that she was only on the war council because she was most familiar with the Old Way of the Northmen, as well as how their sense of duty and honor worked; a trait that the people of the Riverlands tended to share with their Northern allies.

 _The smallfolk seem to adhere to the Old Way more so than the nobility_ —Lyra had observed this during her travels through the humble villages of the Riverlands.

Jaime also felt that by putting Lyra on his war council would keep her in the know, she may be able to help them better in diplomatic matters with the Rivermen.

"Bargaining with oathbreakers is like building on quicksand," Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, had said to Jaime during their treat, dissmisively.

The Rivermen. and especially House Tully's men, did not trust Jaime or the Lannisters— _Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms generally trust the Starks though…_ As much as Jaime felt the "Stark Honor" was daft most of the time, he couldn't deny that it also made everyone generally trust a Stark. Jaime hoped, but begrudgingly so, that by having Lyra on his war council and having her serve as a diplomatic advisor would make the Tullys and their men trust the Lannister's word more. However, Jaime still couldn't decide if appointing Lyra to his war council was a good idea or not.

"We need to get back home, my lord," one of Jaime's cousins argued. "Winter is coming, as your house likes to constantly remind the realm, my lady," he answered the last with sober, old and worried green Lannister eyes landing on Lyra. He was hoping that if anyone would understand the need to hurry back home for Winter, it would be a Stark.

"Aye," a captain spoke up. "If the Blackfish wants a fight, then it's a fight he shall have."

"The Blackfish won't even be reasonable," Ser Daven agreed. "We have no choice but to storm the castle." The Blackfish had already made it abundantly clear that they will not surrender without at least a fight.

"My lords," Lyra interrupted the arguing men of the Westerlands. "Storming the castle may be the quickest answer, but it would lead to more problems than it would solve; the castle of Riverrun needs to remain intact," she reasoned.

"What problems?!" Another Lannister interjected. "The Freys have failed _twice_ to take the castle. House Lannister owes the Freys nothing more than to take the castle from the Tullys." The majority of the men believed that it would be better to simply storm the castle and make the Freys rebuild it. Though the orders given to the Lannisters by the Crown implied the castle must stay intact, they were still unclear as to what they can and cannot do with the castle nonetheless.

 _Useless—_ Jaime had hoped that by convening his war council, they'd be able to figure out a solution to their situation faster; however, it has been nothing but a headache since his men could not even agree on the most basic course of action. Tired of the loud arguing, Jaime stood, his sudden movement getting everyone's attention.

As everyone sitting at the table fell silent, Jaime spoke; "My lords, we have been arguing for the entire evening about the same thing. Before we can take Riverrun, we need to all agree on what tactics we will initially be using." His men were tired, they had not even taken a break during travel and it was currently late in the night. "We will get some rest, clear our heads, and re-convene tomorrow." At this, everyone seemed to relax in their chairs for a moment before rising. Eager for sleep and the opportunity to rest, the lords of the Westerlands filed out of the tent, respectfully bidding Lord and Lady Lannister good-night.

After the last lord left, Lyra rose from her seat, and glidded over to her lord husband. Kissing him affectionately, she asked him if he would come to bed with her. Jaime awoke from his thoughts and stood, offering her his arm. They both briefly laughed at the silly but sweet jestures that chivalry required them to abide by before leaving the tent.

Walking across the crimson camp to the private tent she shared with Jaime, Lyra couldn't help but to notice Bronn trying to covertly enter Ashara's tent.

 _Gods Ashara_ —Lyra never understood her old friend's attraction to sellswords— _Perhaps it is the ruggedness she is attracted to._

Arriving to their tent, Jaime spoke to the guards while Lyra entered and began to undress. It had gotten so late that Lyra did think it fair to not dismiss her handmaidens, so she awkwardly removed her dress herself. Folding the dress, the then removed her corset, her shoulder still sore from the Battle of the Bastards, as it had become known, before getting down to her small clothes.

Brushing her hair, Lyra heard Jaime struggle to remove his armor. He must have dismissed his squire for the night as Lyra had with Joyce and Ashara.

"Let me," Lyra began loosening the straps of Jaime's shoulder plates. He thanked her, trying to hide how exhausted he was. Traveling was starting to wear on him.

Jaime had already been able to remove most of his armor so it didn't take long for Lyra to remove the rest. As she helped him down to his breeches, Lyra couldn't help but to trail her hands over her lord husband's toned body. Despite how much older he was, she couldn't help but to be amazed at how he was still possibly the most handsome man she'd seen.

Relaxing as his lady wife's hands softly trailed his chest, Jaime couldn't help but to pull her around and kiss her; however, he had to laugh at the sight he saw. As he looked at Lyra's naked form before him, he realized he'd forgotten how blessed the Martells were in their forms. Like her aunt, Princess Elia Martell, unless one saw the bump in Lyra's belly, they would not believe she was pregnant. What was funny to him though was the fact that he realized that Lyra was trying to seduce him.

"My wife has become quite wanton as of late," Jaime observed. It seemed that pregnancy made her want to fuck more.

Lyra felt her face heat a little; though she was dornish, her mother had always told her that being wanton was unladylike. "Is my husband displeased by my being so 'wanton'?" Lyra jested.

Smiling at his lady wife, Jaime told her "not at all" before proceeding to kiss her.

Lyra, feeling Jaime's growing hardness poking her belly, deepened the kiss and led him to their bed roll. Climbing on top of Jaime, Lyra unlaced his breeches before straddling his hips. Moaning lightly when his harness rubbed her, she couldn't help but to start lightly grinding her hips in a subconscious attempt to get the pleasurable fricktion between her legs.

As Jaime was content to let his lady wife ride him without his entry of her body, he leaned his head back and watched her. Steadying her hips as she rode him with flesh and gold hands, his eyes traveled up her slightly swollen belly to her swollen breasts and hard teets from the cold air.

 _See you married King Robb's betrothed after my niece so kindly let you go_. _Fitting_ , the Blackfish had insulted Jaime during their treat. _Fitting that the Kingslayer, a man without honor, would accept another man's bride._

The wound still stung Jaime's pride, as it had been since he first met with Brynden Tully— _He has a point though…_ Jaime supposed that if he really didn't want to marry Lyra and had fought his father hard enough, then he probably wouldn't have had to. Yet if he had, then he'd never been able to know and love Lyra and experience what it was like to love her and have her love as well.

Wanting to quit feeling shame for having married his wife, his love and mother of their children whom would be called "Lannister" (children who he would finally be allowed to hold and love), Jaime reluctantly stopped Lyra long enough to allow him to take his breeches off. After doing so, Jaime pulled Lyra back on top of him and entered her swollen, slick heat.

Pregnancy making her nether regions more so sensitive, Lyra gingerly rode her husband at first. Riding him slowly, they both relaxed and tried to pretend that they were anywhere but Riverrun. As much as they both detested the Red Keep, even imagining they were back in their chambers at the castle was better than remembering that they were at Riverrun and why. Here, Lyra and Jaime were both surrounded by people whom called them monsters and oathbreakers, particularly the Tullys.

Though Jaime was enjoying his lady wife's slow, deliberate pace as this allowed them to fully feel each other, he felt he needed a faster pace tonight. Trying to pull Lyra off of him so he could get on top, Jaime was surprised when she suddenly, but firmly stopped him.

Stopping while Jaime was still inside of her, Lyra leaned down to gently kiss her lord husband.

"Let me do it tonight," Lyra gently told Jaime as she gently traced her thumb over the dark circles under his eyes. She'd been married to Jaime long enough now to know when he was feeling exhausted without the need to tell her. The journey may have taken a toll on them both, but Lyra was more like her uncle, Prince Oberyn; no matter how tiring the journey, she always felt she could find the energy to fuck.

Jaime, relenting, leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy the way Lyra felt around his cock, while his good hand roamed her body.

As she became more accustomed to the sensation, Lyra eventually picked up her pace. Going from slow and steady to more frantic. Remembering the guards outside and the fact that the tent was so thin, Lyra and Jaime both tried to stifle their moans of pleasure. As Lyra felt herself nearing the edge, she moaned into Jaime's mouth as her walls clamped around him, sending him with her.

Gingerly pulling Jaime out of herself, Lyra briefly rested on his chest as they caught their breaths, before rolling next to him. It had been too long since they'd had a proper fuck, and Lyra was too worn out from her recent "activities" as well as the long day that had just ended.

Reluctantly, and hoping not to see Brynden Rivers again, Lyra let sleep take her as she curled into Jaime.

* * *

The next morning, Lyra and Jaime awoke to freezing rain. Pulling the furs around her snuggly, Lyra didn't need to peak her head out of the tent to know that the soft pinging on the tent was freezing rain. Though she spent most of her time growing up in Sunspear, she'd spent enough time in Winterfell to be able to distinguish different kinds of precipitation by sound alone.

"It seems that 'Winter is Coming', as you Starks always love to remind the rest of the realm," Jaime lightly japed at Lyra. Her movements and the soft 'pinging' sounds on the tent awoke him from his sleep.

Lyra grinned back at her lord husband— _Indeed, Winter is coming_ —Lyra curled back up around Jaime for warmth. She dreaded getting out of the furs as the weather made Riverrun to be even colder. Lyra was still naked from the previous night, which her sticky thighs reminded her of. _I'm going to be hit by an invisible wall of ice when I get out of this 'bed'._

Being reminded of his lady wife's house's words, Jaime became curious. He _had_ mostly brought Roslin Tully to help them take Riverrun, and he thought he now knew how the young woman could help. Asking his lady wife what she knew about House Tully and Robb Stark's men, Lyra thought for a moment before answering.

Thinking back to when she spent time with her Stark family during her stays at Winterfell, Lyra finally answered; "Well, I don't know that much about the men of the Riverlands in general, or House Tully, but I do know this; House Tully's words are 'Family, Duty, Honor'." _There's more to their words though_ —Lyra racked her brain as she tried to remember what Aunt Cat would tell the children when she had to leave. "The order of their words are deliberate," Lyra suddenly added. "Family comes first, then duty, and lastly, honor."

As Jaime thought about how to proceed with this news, everything suddenly came into place for Lyra; Jaime was going to use Edmure's own house words against him.

"Jaime," Lyra touched his shoulder, worried. "Please, whatever you do, don't hurt them…" Brynden and Roslin were innocent, and Lyra sincerely didn't want to see her beloved cousin Sansa's maternal uncle end up dead or injured, nor under great despair.

Jaime told Lyra not to worry, that he was simply going to talk with Edmure. Kissing Lyra, he thanked her for her advice before leaving the warmth of their bedroll. Getting dressed and putting on his heaviest cloak, Jaime left Lyra in their tent to break her fast and dress for the war council; which will convene once Jaime is done overseeing the men prepare to siege Riverrun in the cold and precipitating weather.

* * *

Having just gotten dressed in her warmest clothes—her Stark grey dress with Winter Rose blue stitches and her black cape with white fox fur trim—Lyra pulled the hood of her cape over her head to protect her plaited hair from the snowflakes. Though this morning the weather had been freezing rain, it turned into powdery snow as Lyra broke her fast in the warmth of her tent.

Jaime told Lyra that he'd see her when the war council reconviened, but that would not be until another couple of hours. To stave off boredom and fulfill her duties as a good Lady Lannister, Lyra went around camp and made sure that all of their men were warm enough and had received food in the morning.

All of the soldiers looked surprised to receive a personal visit by the wife of their leiege lord. When Lyra got to Ser Daven's unit, she asked him why this was, he bluntly told her; "Lord Tywin was a firm believer in ruling through fear so he never gave a shit about his men." Lyra wasn't surprised to hear that Tywin Lannister was still regarded as a cunt by his own men despite their admiration of him.

After making sure that their men and women sworn to House Lannister were taken care of,Lyra decided to have tea with Roslin. Lyra hadn't been a good hostess since their arrival to Riverrun and she needed to at least visit the other woman once a day.

Taking first tea with Roslyn (Lyra didn't normally do this, but she needed to entertain her guest, especially since Edmure was bound and held prisoner in the same camp), Lyra and she chatted quietly. There was something weighing on both ladies's minds.

"Forgive me if I'm too bold, but might I be allowed to see Edmure soon?" Roslyn refused to look Lyra in the eye upon requesting this. Though Lord and Lady Lannister both promised that she would be allowed to see her lord husband, Roslyn Tully was not sure if her hosts meant that she could see him before or after they reach Casterly Rock.

"Of course," Lyra remembered her own promise as well; they'd been so bust dealing with the siege that she'd forgotten about hers and Jaime's promise to Lady Tully. She was certain that she could arrange something.

* * *

Conviening the war council proved to be useless; instead of the lords of the West coming to their senses that the castle should remain intact; they were now more convinced than ever that they should simply destroy the castle during the siege and leave the Freys to repair it themselves.

 _"We did our part," one lord argued._

 _"It's House Frey's fault anyways," another agreed. "They lost the castle, not us; they should feel fortunate to even receive our help!"_

Realizing how useless his men were, Jaime pulled rank, told them that they would not be destroying Riverrun, and dismissed everyone, save for Lyra and Bronn, so he could focus on a siege strategy.

After all of House Lannister's vassels left the tent, Bronn started; "Give me ten good men and I'll impregnate the bitch," he was referring to the taking of Riverrun. "Sneak in, cut the Blackfish's throat, and Riverrun loses leadership. The remainder of Robb Stark's cause disbands and we all go home." Bronn stated this, half-serious.

Frustrated that everone wanted to simply storm the castle and slit Sansa's great-uncle's throat, Lyra interjected; "Surely the best way to take Riverrun will be to persuade either the Blackfish or Edmure Tully to surrender the castle." Turning to Jaime, Lyra asked him how his visit with Edmure Tully went that morning.

Jaime became very quiet before answering that Edmure Tully made it quite clear that they would not be receiving help from him.

Crestfallen and out of peaceful options, the three began trying to come up with strategies that would at least leave Riverrun intact. Unfortunately, as long as they could not get any help from Edmure, House Tully may not remain in tact by the end of the battle.

Bronn and Lyra ended up staying in the tent all day with Jaime. It was around suppertime when they were greeted by two familiar faces. Lyra was about to fetch food and visit Roslyn when the guard came in.

"My Lord and Lady Lannister, sorry to disturb you, but there is a Brienne of Tarth and Podrik Payne asking for Lord Jaime Lannister. Shall I send her and the lad away my lord?"

Everyone in the tent stopped what they were doing immediately.

 _Why would Sansa send Brienne? Is she and Jon in trouble?_ Lyra worried for her two cousins in the North.

Mortioning for the guard to bring Brienne in, Jaime and the large blonde woman with beautiful Azure eyes could only stare at each other for a moment, surprised.

"Lady Brienne," Lyra broke the silence; a worried quiver in her voice. "Are my cousins well?" Not rude, but short and to the point.

"No Lady Lannister," Brienne turned to Lyra. "I've come on orders from Lady Sansa Stark to ask Brynden Tully to come North with his men and help us fight off the White Walkers." Brienne answered in the most serious tone, but Bronn snickered anyway saying something about grumpkins and snarks.

Jaime, however, looked irritated.

Sensing that this was a sort of personal matter between her husband and Brienne, Lyra excused herself. She told them that she would fetch supper, taking Bronn and Pod with her.

As Pod and Bronn caught up (Lyra smiled when she heard Bronn talk about Pod having a "magic cock"). Remembering how readily Aunt Cat surrendered Jaime in exchange for both of her daughters, Lyra got an idea. Though she loathed the idea of using the reunion against Edmure, this fighting was pointless and it needed to end here and now. Having one of the guards fetch Lady Tully and Brynden, Lyra headed towards the tent in which Edmure Tully was being held.

"Lord Tully?" Lyra entered the tent and carefully approached the man tied to the post. Though Lyra knew she had nothing to fear as far as her physical safety went, she wasn't sure how Edmure Tully would respond to her presence.

"Pleased with yourself?" Edmure mockingly answered. "Betraying your own people and shaming your own house so you could marry an oathbreaker? You don't deserve to wear your father's name…"

Lyra teared up a little at Edmure's words. Could she have even done anything to change what happened with Robb? She used to believe that she couldn't, but now, after everything she'd accomplished, she was beginning to believe that she was wrong.

"To call me an oathbreaker is not entirely inccorect my lord; Prince Doran caused me to break my oath through proxy," Lyra admitted with a sad smile. "However, as I'm sure you know, we are slaves to our family's wishes." Ashara gossiped with the maids and Frey ladies at the Twins. She discovered through the grapevine that Robb and Edmure were both reluctant at the prospect of marrying one of them. Edmure was actually shammed into blindly marrying Roslyn by his uncle, the Blackfish.

"However, I'm trying to make amends by doing all I can to help," Lyra added. "I even personally made sure that Sansa was safely returned to Winterfell." This caught Edmure's attention.

"Cat's oldest girl is still alive?"

"Yes, I assure you, she is alive and safe with her brother, Jon Snow, in Winterfell.."

Edmure unconsciously softened at this revelation; "Why? Winterfell is yours by law and by right now. Why give it up?"

"Because a Stark should always hold Winterfell, and I am not a true Stark…not since my father died and my mother took me to live with her in Sunspear," Lyra looked down in shame. It felt like she had failed her father. They both fell silent as Lyra's words sank in.

"Lord Edmure," Lyra pleaded. "I never got the opportunity to know my father. And thank the gods that Brandon Stark had siblings, one of whom would go on to have a family and teach them to be proper Starks; or else, the House Stark would have died with my father." Lyra may be a wolf, but she was a lone wolf for a reason; she didn't necessarily belong with the pack, thus not being a true Stark. Remembering Roslyn, Lyra motioned the guard to bring Roslyn in with Brynden.

After the guard cut Edmure's bonds and checked him for any possible weaponry

"However, there is someone who has been waiting to meet you their whole life," Lyra added as she motioned for the guard to bring Roslyn and Brynden into the tent. Upon seeing his wife and his son for the first time, Edmure fels tears involuntarily streaming down his face.

"Lord Edmure…" Roslyn seemed at a loss for words as she approached her husband, a man she had seen since that awful night. "I…" she appeared to want to apologize, but decided against it. She felt terrible for her role in the Red Wedding, but she didn't see the good in bringing it up.

"This is Brynden," Roslyn told Edmure; remembering why she was there. "He's our son," she emphasized "our".

Carefully taking he took the bundle of Tully blue. Initially, Edmure wanted to deny it, believing this to be a trick. However, once he saw the telltale Tully auburn hair, there was no way he could lie to himself; Edmure accepted that he was indeed holding his infant son.

"What do you want from me?" Edmure tried to sound angry with the woman whom had abandoned her rightful king and offended Cat; but he was too overwhelmed by emotion.

"What do I want?" Lyra began. "I want you to go in and yield the castle. I want your son to have his father and his mother. I want House Tully to survive this," Lyra explained. Robb was gone, Cat was gone, and their cause was dead. There was no use in continuing this siege; it would only lead to unnecessary violence and bloodshed.

* * *

" _You_ made a promise," Brienne argued fiercely.

"Yes, and that promise was fulfilled," Jaime countered. "Sansa is alive and safe in Winterfell."

"No," Brienne corrected him. " _Lyra Stark_ fulfilled _your_ promise. _You_ haven't done shit."

Frustrated, Jaime snapped at the other warrior; "What do you want me to do? Go against my own house?! Cersei is Queen Mother, a _Lannister_. My nephew is king—half Lannister. Not to mention the fact that you're right; Lyra _has_ fulfilled my oath for me, but at great risk. Sansa is still wanted as a traitor." Calming down, Jaime added, "House Lannister has done enough for the realm."

"You don't have to come," Brienne tried. "Just allow me the opportunity to speak with Catelyn's uncle. That's all. If I can persuade him to come to Winterfell, then he will be forced to yield the castle, and your siege will be over."

Jaime wasn't sure how Cersei would take his allowing Brienne of Tarth to leave with the Blackfish and Tully men. However, he figured that she may not actually care since they were going North over a superstitious and yielding Riverrun. Cersei didn't believe in White Walkers; "Grumpkins and Snarks" she'd called Northern superstitions.

"Fine," Jaime relented. "My men will escort you to the gates, but you're on your own after that."

"Thank you," Brienne said rather stiffly before turning to leave.

"Brienne," Jaime suddenly stopped her. After the large woman turned to face him, he warned her; "We're seiging the castle at sundown. Please, try to be away from the castle by then," he begged her.

At Jaime's unexpected concern for her wellbeing, Brienne wanted to tell him something, but decided against it. Instead, she told him thank you and said good-bye. Brienne believed it would be the last time she would ever see him, much to her sadness.

For once, Jaime was sincerely sad to say farewell to Brienne— _no, my friend_.

* * *

Later, not long before the Lannisters were due to siege Riverrun, Lyra reappeared in the tent. "He's ready to yield," she said; sitting down and pouring herself wine.

Jaime looked at her curiously; _Who?_

"Edmure has agreed to our terms," Lyra sipped her apricot wine. "He will peacefully yield the castle as long as we swear that we will keep our side of the agreement."

"How do we know he's just saying that to escape?" Jaime asked his overconfident wife.

"Because," Lyra took a rather large gulp; she wasn't proud in the was she had convinced Edmure. Esentially, she had given him a taste of what it would be like to have a family again, and them letting him know what it would be like to lose them. After Roslyn and Brynden left the tent where Edmure was being held prisoner, Lyra told Edmure the stark truth of his situation— _If you don't yield, Jaime will allow the Freys to take you prisoner again. Knowing Lord Walder, he will not treat you as your rank dictates; you will likely be thrown in a cell at the Twins, and you'll likely never see your wife or son again. The survival of House Tully will depend entirely on your son, who will likely then be manipulated by the Freys to legitimize their rule in the Riverlands. Riverrun will likely be destroyed when it is sieged at sundown and then the Freys will be rebuilding your ancestral home._ Lyra had a feeling that Edmure would adhere to his house's words, "Family Duty Honor."

"Lord Edmure knows what he will be losing if he doesn't comply," Lyra assured Jaime when he seemed to want to argue. "And if he doesn't, we siege at sundown. If he does yield, then we peacefully take Riverrun. Either way, House Lannister gets to go home," Lyra added this last part bitterly. She knew that Edmure was a gamble, but she had to try. She did not want to see Riverrun destroyed or members of House Tully killed; but enough was enough. If they all really want to die for a cause that has been dead since the Red Wedding, then so be it.

It was nearly sundown when they sent Edmure in his Tully armor to the gates of Riverrun. Watching him demand entry as the rightful Lord of Riverrun. Jaime gave Edmure one hour to get everything in order to turn over ownership of Riverrun to the Freys.

Lyra held her breath- _Don't be a fool Edmure_. She didn't want to see another fatherless child due to said father's stupidly strict adherence to honor.

Though Lyra was waiting safely near the trenches with Ser Daven, she could still see the Blackfish arguing with the Tully men before they lowered the gates.

Walking back into his home, which he hadn't seen in over a year, Edmure Tully felt a powerful wave of nostalgia. Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that family came before honor, he briefly wondered how Cat and Father would feel about the situation. He knew for certain that if any of Cat's children were in danger, she'd give up Riverrun in a heartbeat just to stay with them. Thinking of Cat, Edmure missed his sister dearly— _Cat, you were always the good one. The one who endangered her very freedom and life for the mear possibility of getting her girls back…you should be here so you can go back to Sansa. Not me._ Edmure was ashamed to be the only surviving Tully, yet he was also the only Tully who didn't deserve to live. _I fucked the Frey girl while my king, my nephew, was being murdered along with my own sister. I deserve to be labeled a traitor for that alone._

Ordering his men to prepare to surrender to the Lannisters, Edmure then went to his solar— _my father's solar_ —one last time.

Seeing what he presumed to be Robb's crown sitting on the table, Edmure poured himself some meade that tasted as awful as it smelled. He heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. Edmure knew who it was; it was his uncle coming to storm in and call him weak and a traitor. He wasn't wrong in his prediction.

"Seven hells!" Brynden the "Blackfish" Tully came storming in. "You!" he pointed Robb's crown to his nephew, shaking with anger. "Get out of that chair! It may be yours by law, but you have no right to sit in the very chair your father, a TRUE Tully sat in!"

Initially, Edmure felt too defeated to care, but he was tired of letting his uncle bully him into everything. "No, uncle," Edmure calmly shot back. "I am true Tully! 'Family, Duty, Honor'. Those are our words, in that order. I will _not_ leave my son to be manipulated and abused by the very men who murdered my sister and my king."

"Coward," the Blackfish spat at Edmure. "If your father were alive he'd—"

"He'd what uncle?! He's _dead_ and so is King Robb, and if we will not yield the castle, House Tully will be effectively destroyed along with Riverrun. I do NOT intend to let those traitorous bastards re-build OUR HOME in their image. If we let this happen, we will fade into _nothing_! Nothing but a memory or a ghost like House Reyne and House Targaryen."

At this, the Blackfish scoffed and took his sword, muttering how he intended to die in his own home. However, Edmure tried to stop him by telling him that he had heard that Lyra helped Cat's daughter, Sansa, re-take Winterfell. Much to his dismay though, his uncle only brushed him off before leaving with his sword.

"I'll kill every last one of them!"

* * *

Jaime was relieved when he saw Brienne and Podd safely leaving down one of the rivers. Edmure didn't even need the full hour to surrender, and Jaime's men were able to secure the castle just before supper.

Standing with Lyra, both of them looking over the rivers, a Lannister captain approached them.

"Did you find him?" Jaime asked.

"Yes, my lord, we located the Blackfish. Unfortunately though we were forced to use violence. He died in the struggle. I'm sorry," the captain apologized; looking almost sad. The Blackfish was quite well known and admired by soldiers and knights alike all over Westeros.

Jaime seemed a bit disheartened by the news of the Blackfish. Even Jaime aspired to be like the Blackfish in his youth, which is why he'd hoped that the decorated knight could go to the wall or go to Winterfell.

"Perhaps we can give him a proper buriel?" Lyra told Jaime. If she wasn't mistaken only a moment ago, she'd say that Jaime Lannister actually cared about whether or not another man died— _you've changed_ —Lyra had to smile to herself at this thought; Jaime was slowly becoming the man of honor she knew that he always could be.

Jaime agreed to Lyra's proposal and led her down the tower stairs. Following the captain, they saw a bloody mess near the back entrance of Riverrun.

As the Lannister men pulled the bloody body up, Jaime and Lyra simultaneously realized that wasn't the Blackfish.

"Get me Lord Edmure!" Jaime ordered the captain, angry.

While they waited for the captain to return with Edmure, Lyra examined the body. It appeared to her as if someone tried to make the corpse _look_ like the Blackfish.

When the captain finally came back, Jaime, furious, asked Edmure where his uncle was.

Taking a moment to recover himself, Edmure responded (trying not to look smug) with one simple sentence: "Fish can swim."

* * *

 **Author's note: Hope you all enjoyed! I didn't like how they killed off the Blackfish in the series, but don't worry, we'll be seeing him again later on ;)**

 **Next:** ** _Riverrun-Jaime must deal with the ghosts of the deceased Tullys as well as the future of House Tully while they accompany her and Jaime to the Rock. Lyra deals with complications of her own and an uncertain future._**


	38. Chapter 38: Riverrun

**Author's Note: Hello! I'm back and now I have a MUCH more clear picture as to how to end this story, and WOW! I can't believe that we're almost half-way done!**

 **Sorry I** **haven't corrected the grammar, spelling, and organization of my other chapters. I've been quite busy, but I hope to do so soon!**

 **Anyways, enjoy! ^.^**

* * *

 **Chapter 38: Riverrun**

Though the red cloaks searched Riverrun from top to bottom, and interrogated the Tully men, the Blackfish was nowhere to be found. With the last of Robb's men in the dungeons until the Lannisters could decide what was to be done with them, and they simply assumed that Edmure was telling the truth; the Blackfish likely escaped to go North to be with Sansa and Brienne.

Jaime was still quite angry towards Edmure about letting the Blackfish escape Riverrun, however, he still kept his promise to the three Tullys—no harm would come to them so long as they were in his charge. Though it wasn't without at least some rage from Jaime.

 _"_ _I ordered you to_ ** _surrender_** _Riverrun!" Jaime was fuming, he thought that he had been clear that the men were_ ** _not_** _to be allowed to escape. When the Blackfish and Edmure refused Jaime's original terms, he thought he had been clear that Edmure and the rest of Robb's men were now to be their prisoners._

 _"_ _You did, my lord," Edmure tried to hide his smug smile. "However, you never said anything about forcing_ ** _the Blackfish_** _to stay. I'm afraid that my uncle has always been more of his own man. Hence his name" Though Edmure was trying to hold his ground against Jaime, Lyra could tell that he was still a bit frightened of what Jaime would do to him. It seemed as if even Edmure knew that the Lannisters had given him and his men a good deal, all things considered._

The confrontation between Jaime and Edmure concerning the Blackfish's escape was the most cross Lyra had ever seen Jaime. Truth be told, it even frightened Lyra a little…She was seeing more facets of Jaime's life and personality she supposed though. The only times Lyra had known Jaime, he was a knight of the King's Guard or the heir to Casterly Rock. This is the first time Lyra has known Jaime as the head of the entirety of the West's army and fighting.

Since it was so late by the time Riverrun was surrendered, the Lannisters decided to stay the night with the Freys at the former seat of House Tully. Lyra took this as an opportunity to excuse herself so that Jaime may calm down.

Lyra was ordering her handmaidens and the men where to put their supplies and which trunks to bring up to the room Lyra and Jaime would share. They weren't to share the Lord of the Trident's chambers, and neither were Edmure and Roslin; however, Edmure and Roslin were to share his childhood rooms to which Edmure objected to Lyra.

"I do not wish to sleep in the same room as Roslin Frey, my lady," Edmure objected to a perplexed Lyra.

"She's your wife. Why not?" Lyra asked earnestly, though she had a feeling that it had to do with the Red Wedding.

"Yes, Lady Roslin is my wife, but we were married under false pretenses," Edmure explained stiffly. "My son is an innocent, he doesn't deserve to be punished because of his parents' deeds," he finished this, refusing to look at Lyra. "I do this for my son, and my son alone," he finished solemnly.

All Lyra could think on was back at the Twins where she saw Lady Roslin act and submit to her father as a beat dog— _Does this fool really believe that a young girl like Roslin could have stood up to Walder Frey, her father?_ Too tired to argue and having a throbbing head, Lyra dismissed Edmure before asking Joyce and Ashara to make a room for Roslin and Brynden to sleep in for the night. Both handmaidens simply looked at Lyra, confused, before Lyra nodded for them to drop what they were doing and attend to her guest right away.

All of this thinking and talking about honor and family and duty made Lyra brood about her own life's situation. Lord Walder did not seem to love nor to be nearly as affectionate with Roslin as Brandon and Oberyn had been to Lyra; yet, Walder Frey still wanted to see his children take what he believed was rightfully theirs. Lord Walder was even willing to go as far as to put his pride aside and ask for help in re-taking Riverrun. Roslin had even confided in Lyra that she was shamefully torn between leaving the Twins or staying.

 _"_ _If I had stayed," Roslin told Lyra as they had eaten earlier. "Father wanted to foster Brynden at Riverrun with my brother. Then, he was hoping that Brynden would marry one of his Frey cousins, but he would never hold Riverrun. He would only be there to keep my brother's sons' reigns legitimate." Roslin looked sadly at Lyra with her beautiful watery grey eyes._

 _"_ _My own destiny has been decided for me since the day I was born, and though it shames me to say, my father decided that I would play a roll in the Red Wedding," Roslin added, rocking Brynden. "When I refused to break the rule of Guest Rights, he told me that I could protest all I wanted, but it mattered not because I was his daughter and therefore at his mercy." Roslin finished this last part about Walder Frey as if she were spitting bile from her mouth._

Similar to Lyra, Roslin chose to leave home and take a chance on her future so she could try breaking the restraints her position at home had left her with. Now, instead of being simply "Roslin Frey" a girl with little power and voice, Roslin was now "Lady Tully"—a woman with a title, the power that went with it, and the opportunity for her to spread her wings.

Thinking about how leaving the safety under the protection of House Martell to marry Jaime Lannister and _possibly_ get Brandon Stark's seat back, Lyra felt her blood boil when she began to remember the Three-Eyed Raven's prophecy.

Coming to the Heart Tree in the small Godswood at Riverrun (though the rivermen mostly kept with the Seven, as did House Tully, Lyra knew that most great houses still took care of their Godswood out of superstition), Lyra looked face to face with the open, crying mouth and face of the Heart Tree.

 _I don't believe in fate_.

"I don't believe you're real," Lyra emotionlessly told the stand-in for the Three-Eyed Raven. _If he can even hear me. If he's real, then he's probably dead and can't hear anyways—_ She said to herself bitterly. "I don't believe in your fate shit," Lyra spat at the tree. This was _her_ life, and she'd fought hard to make her life her own. Jaime was probably right too; White Walkers haven't been seen in thousands of years and the Night's Watch has not seemed alarmed, _if_ the White Walkers are as real as Jon Snow claims, then the North and the Night's Watch can take care of them as they'd done before.

" _I_ fought to make my own destiny!" Lyra found herself screaming at the Heart Tree. For as long as she could remember, Lyra fought to make her life her own; and she would be _damned_ to the deepest bowels of the Hells if some _dead man_ was going to tell her who she was, and what she was going to become.

Feeling herself overwhelmed by emotion, Lyra fell to her knees as tears slid down her tired face. _I say and believe all of this, but_ ** _I_** _don't even know who I am…_ Jaime was right; she wasn't a true Stark, but she didn't feel like a Martell either. Was she a Lannister then? _No! I may be House Lannister's Lone Wolf, but I_ ** _am_** _a wolf nonetheless_ —she decided.

Wipping her tears, Lyra composed herself— _Father and Mother would be ashamed if they could see me like this._

Taking a final look at the Heart Tree before leaving to be with Jaime, Lyra remembered that Ned and Cat were married in front of this Heart Tree by a Septon many years ago. Lyra wondered if Robb was ever brought before it as a babe as her mother did with her; to let her Father's Gods see her and watch over her as they had done for other Starks over thousands of years.

"I'm not a Stark though..." Lyra reminded herself, sadly. She couldn't have held Winterfell even if she had tried. Starks were superstitious, yet she was not; they had honor, and she had none seeing as she broke her oath to Robb; Starks ruled in Winterfell, but she gave it up to rule Casterly Rock.

 _Lyra! You **are** a Stark! I've **seen** it! _A familiar and distant voice suddenly screamed at her.

Looking around wildly, Lyra could see no one; she was alone in the Godswood at Riverrun. Chills being sent down her spine, she began to stand from where she was sitting in front of the Heart Tree so she could walk back to the inside of the castle. That was when she felt it.

It was like a fluttering feeling inside of Lyra's belly, but when it wouldn't stop, her ribs started to hurt. Lyra began to panic, she was afraid that she was going to lose another babe.

Lying down on the ground, Lyra thought that if she stayed still, it would stop; instead, it only intensified. Feeling hot tears coming down her face, she closed her eyes. She didn't know what was happening, but she was afraid. Feeling winded, she put her hands on her belly; "Please stop!" she begged, "Please don't leave me!"

Lyra's vision then changed from black to a bright, warm afternoon in front of the very Heart Tree she was just speaking to. She saw a blurry vision of a man with auburn hair, hiding behind a tree while a woman with black hair, wearing a crimson dress read a book. Suddenly, the man playfully jumped out and frightened her. The woman in red became angry at the man with auburn hair, but it soon became clear that they were lovers as Lyra saw them kiss and touch each other lovingly. She then felt a familiar ice-cold burning sensation on her shoulder, and the warm vision then turned to ice and darkness.

Turning around, Lyra saw that she was face-to-face with another White Walker, but this one didn't look like the other, or any of the White Walkers she'd read or heard described. Instead of the twisted, cold ugly face she'd seen before, this one was pretty and female with long white hair to match her white skin and ice-cold azure blue eyes.

 _The Night's Queen!_

An elegant, white hand then shot out, grabbing Lyra by the throat, began to lift her from the ground. Gasping for air as the cold, clawed hand burned her throat, Lyra saw someone behind the Night's Queen, a man whom she hadn't seen in years.

 _You see the future if you face destiny, and now you see the future if you refuse_ , Bran told his cousin sadly.

* * *

 **End Note: What did you think? I know this chapter was a bit boring. R &R if you'd like! I'd love some feedback ^.^**

 **Next: _The Westerlands: Lyra sees the pain and devastation of both the Rivermen and the Westermen. Jaime worries for his lady wife's health as the babe grows restless. Cersei's madness grows as she is released from the prison of the Faith Militant._**


	39. Chapter 39: Echoes

**Author's Note: I'm back! Thank you for all of the reviews I have received in my absence, it is so lovely to hear from everyone! Things have been a bit crazy, but I'm hoping to update waaaaayyyy more often soon.**

 **Enjoy! ^.^**

 **Chapter 39: Echoes**

When Roslin Tully left the Twins to join the Lannisters and her lord husband, she thought that life would be better. She was disappointed to find that life outside of her lord father's control wasn't that much better.

 _We may have been officially married before the Seven, but we shall never truly be husband and wife_ , Edmure had coldly told Roslin with his back turned. He refused to even sleep in the same quarters as she. Though she couldn't blame Edmure for this sentiment— _my father and brothers did betray his nephew, whom was supposed to be our king as well as his—_ her husband's words still tore at her heart.

Despite the fact that Roslin was forced to go through with her marriage to Edmure Tully under false pretenses, she still wanted for the three remaining Tullys to be a family. She wanted a family again. Most importantly, she didn't want little Brynden to grow up knowing that his father hated his mother.

 _I could have warned him…_ Roslin briefly considered, but then, what good would it have done? Everyone was already trapped in the Great Dinning Hall before they were even married, and Roslin wouldn't have even been able to warn her future husband before hand.

 _You played the part very well my dear_ , Roslin's lord father had told her after the Red Wedding. Even after they had drug Edmure from her bed, Roslin still wept; she'd never felt more disgusted with herself in her life, especially since Edmure had been so good and kind to her for the brief couple of hours they were man and wife.

Despite Lady Lannister's assurances that there was no need to feel shame for what she did, Roslin still couldn't help but to think; _my own father turned me into a lying whore._ Needless to say, the shame was awful and unrelenting, and it had only worsened upon seeing Edmure again for the first time in over a year.

As Lady Lannister's handmaidens helped make up a room for Roslin and Brynden for the night, Roslin Tully still could not help the tears spilling from her eyes. Though Lady Lannister had told Roslin to give Edmure time to come around, the fact that her lord husband refused to even look at her caused her to increasingly believe that there would be no chance of reconciliation.

Roslin was no stranger to being treated as nothing more than an object to be used, but being treated as nothing more than the traitorous Frey mother of Brynden Tully by her own husband cut her the deepest. Even to her own husband, it seemed she was not a person or a wife; instead, she was only the womb that carried the Tully legacy.

After the handmaidens left, Roslin was thankful for solitude as she wept and held her son, the only person left in her life whom she believed to love her. Though she was initially terrified upon Brynden's birth (she'd prayed day and night to the Seven that she'd birth a girl so Edmure's life would be spared), she felt so happy and lucky to have her boy. Roslin's solitude with her son had been some of the happiest moments of her days since the Red Wedding, but now, she was only being reminded of the life she felt she'd never have.

 _Edmure will never love me, my son will never grow up in the same manner his father did, and we will never be Lord and Lady of Riverrun._

After putting Brynden down to sleep, Roslin tossed and turned restlessly before finally getting up.

Deciding to dress and roam the castle (she felt it would be okay since she could still hear the hustle and bustle of servants and guards), Roslin stepped out of her quarters.

"Pardon me, Ser… _Daven_?" Roslin asked the Lannister guard whom Lady Lannister had assigned to keep post outside her door for her own safety.

"Yes, my lady?" the knight answered sleepily.

"I'm going for a stroll," Roslin wanted to at least see the castle that should have been hers. "Would you be so kind as to not let anyone in? My son is asleep and we have a long journey tomorrow."

The knight respectfully agreed, but he insisted that another guard go with her and that Joyce be called to take care of the babe— _for their own safety_.

Roslin was a little taken aback by this, as she was told that she was not a prisoner; she was a guest. However, she also supposed that the Lannisters were worried that she may attempt to free Edmure considering that the Blackfish had escaped them only hours ago.

"Lady Tully wants to wander the castle, eh?" a lowborn-looking man dressed in the splendor of a Lannister knight interrupted before Ser Daven could call a guard to escort Roslin.

"I'll come with ya," the knight who called himself Ser Bronn of the Blackwater said to Roslin. As she took his arm, he told her that Lord Lannister had asked him to roam the castle and find Lady Lannister anyways.

Initially weary of Ser Bronn, Roslin soon found herself at ease with the man. His bawdy humor made her laugh. As they looked through the old, beautiful hallways, Roslin admired the rather utilitarian, but excellently crafted stonework. There were intricately woven tapestries all over the walls to enhance the castle's beauty, but one in particular made Roslin stop.

One of the tapestries in the Lord's Solar, which overlooked the rivers, caught Roslin's attention. It was House Tully's sigil with their words stitched in red, a rare color of thread even in the Riverlands, and in the corner, the tapestry was signed: _Catelyn Tully_.

Roslin had to pull her sleeve up to her eyes as tears threatened to spill as she remembered her brothers bragging about how they'd cut Catelyn Tully's, her own good-sister's, throat so deep they could see bone. Roslin also remembered how roughly and unceremoniously her cruel brothers had _thrown_ Lady Catelyn's body into the river, as if she were nothing but waste.

"Not here, apparently. Nobody is," Ser Bronn had come back from checking the Lord and Lady's chambers. It surprised Roslin that Lord and Lady Lannister refused to allow anyone to stay in those chambers.

Seeing Lady Tully's sad face, Bronn remembered hearing of how particularly beautiful the Riverrun Godswood was. Lyra was likely there, and it may cheer the Tully girl up to see the ancient, intricately carved trees of the Old Gods.

* * *

Lyra looked into the icy, cat-like eyes of the Night's Queen as she struggled to breathe.

 _You are one of us Lyra! I've seen it!_

"Bran!" Lyra gasped. He was older than she remembered, but there was no mistaking it was her lost cousin.

 _Follow your destiny, you **must** find the sword! _

The darkness engulfed her then, and Lyra could only see the malevolently beautiful light eyes of the Night's Queen staring at her. Her throat burned from the glacial talons wrapped around it, attempting to squeeze the life from her.

Grabbing her dagger, Lyra threw it in the creature's arm with as much force as she could muster.

Horrified, she watched a delicate white hand pull it out.

 _I'm going to die_. Instinctively, Lyra reached for her sword. Pulling it out, she thrust it into the Night's Queen without a second thought.

The Night's Queen shattered like glass as a blade, which was not Lyra's, went through her chest.

As the darkness began to dissipate, Lyra looked at the strange sword in her hand. Larger than her own sword, the blade was still fit for a woman's hand. The pommel was wrapped with worn, but well made leather, and there was a ruby encrusted in the pommel.

 _Dark Sister?_

* * *

Bronn and Roslin quickly spotted their liege lady thrashing about at the bottom of the Heart Tree. Screaming, she was clawing at her own throat.

Roslin told Bronn to get help while she attempted to calm Lady Lyra down.

Thinking perhaps that Lyra's scarf was too tight, Roslin pulled it off her host. Seeing the frost burned skin in the pattern of a hand wrapped around the other woman's throat, Roslin gasped. Falling back in shock and horror, she watched as Lyra continued to scratch at her throat.

 _What's going on?! What's happening?!_ Roslin's vision narrowed as her mind couldn't fathom how Lyra could have gotten such a frost burn.

Lyra didn't stop clawing until Bronn and another knight pulled her hands away.

* * *

After speaking with the maester, Jaime entered the room quietly; Lyra had been given something so she'd settle down.

Looking over at the bed, Jaime saw his lady wife's eyes flutter open. She looked at him then, silently, with tired red eyes.

"They're coming," she rasped out at him. Her arm felt heavy as she lifted her hand to feel her throat.

Seeing Bran, the Night's Queen and that vision…she'd _felt_ everything, the warmth of the summer sun on her face and the ice-burning grip on her throat, squeezing the life from her. Lyra no longer believed that the White Walkers were just fairytales like grumpkins and snarks.

Carefully, Jaime went to the bed and sat next to his wife. "Lyra," he tried to soothe her. He didn't want her getting so worked up. "Just sleep, we'll talk in the morning."

Whatever the maester had given her, it was strong. Lyra was fighting sleep quite hard, but could feel herself losing the battle.

"I don't want to see them again…" after what had happened in the God's Wood, having an injury from a "dream" hurt her actual body was frightening, she was afraid to lose consciousness.

"I'll be right here," Jaime wiped the tears spilling from her face.

"These dreams…" Lyra trailed off tiredly. "I've been having them since King's Landing…the Bloodraven…a white walker…and now, Bran." She didn't understand she had never had dreams like this before where creatures could actually hurt her. Though she could feel the pain from the first white walker touching her, this was the first time she'd been hurt outside of her dream as well.

Looking at his lady wife's throat, it crossed his mind that Lyra could have inflicted the wounds herself. But why? Perhaps out of guilt over what happened to Robb and Lady Stark? Then Jaime had seen the mark wrapped around Lyra's throat, the hand was too big to be her own and how could she possibly get a frost burn in that fashion? None of it made sense.

"The sword…I need to find Dark Sister…" Lyra said before drifting off.

* * *

They had been traveling for days, but the Lannister army was to arrive at the Golden Tooth by afternoon. Jaime had kept talk about Lyra's "incident" in the God's Wood at Riverrun quiet, and Lyra was telling everyone that she was wearing bandages and a scarf around her throat due to it being sore from the weather. Edmure Tully traveled next to Jaime on horse, but with no weapon. Lyra had been forced into the carriage with Roslin, but not without a fight.

 _Dothraki women ride all the time during the entire pregnancy! I should be allowed to do the same! Lyra had argued with Jaime._

 _Yes,_ Dothraki _women. Jaime had argued back. Lyra, you're lucky to still have the babe…please just take it easy and don't argue._

After arguing back and forth for over an hour, Jaime finally commanded Lyra, as her Lord husband, to ride with Roslin Tully. Lyra still tried to get a horse saddled for her, but no soldier or captain would do so or allow it. Quietly cursing under her breath, Lyra relented and sat in the carriage.

 _At least I can see outside_ , Lyra had never seen this part of the Riverlands or the Westerlands before and she was excited to experience it. The scenery was truly beautiful. It was no wonder these two kingdoms were so rich; there were more fields of crops and animal farms in one kilometer than there was in all of Winterfell and Sunspear.

The people were kind, simple and devout. During their first stop in the Westerlands,on the border, they had stopped close to a farm. Needing to get out of the camp, Lyra went to the humble farmhouse to meet one of her subjects. Jaime had too much to do since there was business to conduct before reaching the Golden Tooth, so Lyra and Ashara went with Bronn and a young soldier named Roland as escorts. The farmer, whose name was Pate, was a single father of five children. His wife died in childbirth three years ago. Initially, Pate seemed terrified to find Lady Lannister and a knight on his doorstep; likely believing they were there to take his farm for their soldiers. However, after visiting with Pate and his children, he stopped nervously glancing at Bronn. Pate and his family were hog and berry farmers. They were nothing but generous and humble to Lyra, Ashara and Bronn.

"What brings you to our humble home, m'lady Lannister?" Pate finally asked.

"Our camp edges a little onto your land," Lyra explained. Not only did she wish to meet one of the smallfolk of the west, but she also came to personally apologize for the army's intrusion on his land.

"No need for apologizes, m'lady. We are most fortunate and grateful for your visit," Pate's eldest daughter, Alys, said to Lyra. Alys, being of sixteen years, seemed to be the maternal figure of the family to her much younger siblings. She wasn't beautiful by the standards of nobility, but Lyra thought her pretty, as did Roland seeing as he couldn't take his eyes off the girl. She had golden, light brown hair and big blue eyes. Though she'd obviously darkened some on her heart shaped face from picking berries, her skin was even in tone and her teeth were a little crooked but fairly bright, especially when she smiled at Roland.

Pate invited Lyra and her company to stay and share a humble meal with him and his family, but Lyra had to politely decline. Jaime wanted her to be back before sundown.

"Seven blessings to you and Lord Lannister m'lady. We will keep you in our prayers in hopes you and your husband and the soldiers all make it home safely," Pate bade farwell before after giving Lyra some blueberries for herself and Jaime. "The war has created bandits and troublesome people as folks have fallen on hard times. I pray you don't run into any of them."

This caught Lyra's attention.

"Have they been troubling you or your family?" Lyra asked.

Pate and his children were rather silent before he spoke; "A group of men have been running around the area going farm to farm demanding food and women," he glanced fearfully at Alys. "They briefly bothered me in the field. I told Alys and her sister to hide while I got the bacon and silver they demanded." He then looked down sadly before adding, "they raped my neighbor's eldest daughter, a girl of twelve, the next day."

Lyra was terribly sorry to hear this. She'd go after the bandits herself if she could. "I will speak with Lord Lannister about having some of our men stay behind to rid your community of these bandits," Lyra promised before leaving.

Later that night, Lyra sat in her's and jaime's tent. Having eaten half of Pate's blueberries (they were delicious), she waited patiently for her lord husband to come back from his war council. Singing a rather bawdy tune she'd heard Bronn singing to himself earlier, Lyra brushed her hair and readied for bed. She was starting to become rather frustrated with remembering the tune when Jaime came in.

"How was your little adventure today?" Jaime asked, taking off his boots.

Lyra enjoyed visiting with Pate and his family, they were a breath of fresh air from the stuffy highborns she was usually around. She told Jaime all about Pate and his family.

"Taking a leaf out of Lady Margeary's book are we?" Jaime asked Lyra; her actions today reminded him a lot of how Margeary would visit the smallfolk in King's Landing to win them over.

Lyra scoffed at this; she only wanted to know the people she was to rule. "Margaery's methods reap good results. Even if I was, would it be a bad thing to do? To show the people I am to rule that I have an interest in them?" she laughed.

"Not at all," Jaime smiled. "My mother used to visit the smallfolk of Lannisport before she passed away." Joanna Lannister found a benefit to taking an interest in her own people, and she was the last Lannister to do so.

Lyra then told Jaime about the bandits, she was shocked that he knew yet had done nothing. "Surely we can spare a small amount to get rid of them for disturbing the peace?"

"These things happen all the time."

"Because nobody does anything. To allow bandits to terrorize our smallfolk and steal their crops is letting them walk all over the liege lord. Surely we can spare some men."

"I'm sure that Roland and a few of the other lads would be glad to hunt down some savages. Many of our own men come from humble families as well."

"If it's bothering the community enough, they'll band together and take care of the problem."

"Oh yes, a group of farmers can take care of some rouge men with steal. They can just stab them in the eye with their pitchforks."

"Alright, but we can't pay the soldiers extra. You'll have to find volunteers to do the deed and follow us home."

Smiling, Lyra already had the perfect lad in mind to lead the mission.

* * *

"Lady Lannister," Roland stood suddenly. The lads in the circle followed suit.

"Roland, how would you like to help House Lannister assist those in need of our help and protection?"

Roland said it would be an honor. He knew the right men to ask for assistance too.

 **Author's Note: Super fluffy and corny near the end, I know, but Lyra is beginning to stretch her wings as Lady Lannister.**

 ** _Next: Showdown at the Golden Tooth: The last of Robb's army is at the Golden Tooth. They've made themselves a stronghold in the mountains, making it impossible to mine gold, while they terrorize the villagers at night for food and supplies. In an attempt to get the men of her former betrothed to stand down, Lyra gets herself separated from Jaime and their army._**


	40. Chapter 40: The Golden Tooth

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for all of your reviews, they are VERY much appreciated!**

 **Much love, anger, and passion in this chapter.**

 **Enjoy ^.^**

 **Chapter 40: The Golden Tooth**

 _You are one of us Lyra! I've seen it!_

Mira Reed nearly jumped out of her skin at Bran's scream— _What if they hear us?!_ Just as she was about to pull Bran away from the Heart Tree, he awoke. Relieved, she silently and quickly loaded Bran up in his makeshift sled to keep heading south.

"Why are you and the Gods so concerned with putting Lyra in such a terrible fate?" Mira finally asked. Mira herself, was still bitter about her's and her brother's own destiny to suffer for the sake of the realm.

 _Our pain doesn't seem to matter does it?_ The thought was selfish, but why were they chosen to suffer so?

There was a long silence, full of blistering wind and snow before Bran finally answered: "Lyra may not be the main player in this war, but she is still a key player." As far as exactly why his cousin had to defeat the Night's Queen, Bran did not yet know. However, as the days passed, his powers grew stronger, as did his foresight as the Three-Eyed Raven. Truth be told, Bran was not even sure if Lyra's role in the war to come was essential to winning or not…

* * *

They continued to travel on the King's Road, but at a faster pace. Despite the fact that Lyra was no longer allowed to attend war councils, she still knew what was generally happening: currently, the Lannisters were at the Golden Tooth to take care of another issue.

 _Cersei and her offspring have been fairly inept rulers._ Though Cersei and her children were able to keep the Crownlands in order, they had shown time and time again that they were incapable of ruling the rest of the kingdoms. First, Tywin had to take care of the issues and remnants of the War of Five Kings; now, that task had fallen to Jaime and the Lannisters in the West. They'd taken care of Riverrun, and now they needed to visit the mines at the Golden Tooth.

Getting out of bed, Lyra stretched the kinks out of her back and neck. Sleeping on a bedroll for so long had her muscles balled up and strained, and Lyra thanked the Gods that the lord of the holdfast they were currently staying at had offered them a proper room and bed.

Taking off her nightdress, Lyra thought it nice not to feel so cold while she was naked in her own quarters. As they were approaching Casterly Rock, the climate was becoming more temperate. Getting the salve the maester had given her to prevent the unsightly marks of pregnancy she began to rub it on her belly. Feeling a small bump beginning to form in her lower belly, Lyra couldn't help but to smile.

Though she still was not completely sure as to how far along she was with her pregnancy, Lyra thought it likely to be about four moons. Especially since four moons was around the time she had to start letting out her dresses during her last pregnancy.

 _Such a sight to wake to_ , a husky voice said behind her. Lyra felt a large hand touch the small, but growing, bump.

"Did you finally sleep well?" Lyra asked Jaime as she turned to face her lord husband.

Though he loathed to admit it, even to himself, Jaime was beginning to feel as he were approaching middle age. His body was starting to ache from traveling all day, then sleeping on the ground at night. Exhaling deeply, Jaime touched his head to his lady wife's as he ran his good hand over the bump in her belly.

"I think it's a girl," Lyra told him quietly. She didn't have an exact reason as to why she thought this; she just had a strong feeling, almost intuitive, that this babe would be a girl. _And a feisty one too_ —Ever since the "incident" at the God's Wood in Riverrun, the babe had been quite active.

Having gotten some energy back— _maybe it's because I slept well_ —Lyra gently pushed Jaime back down on the bed and began to kiss him. The more pregnant she became, the more she loved her lord husband. She even began to feel something that she hadn't felt in a while: arousal.

Jaime, already stiff from waking, felt himself struggle not to instinctively push his manhood in his wife's belly. "I don't want to hurt you," he tried to interrupt Lyra. Instead, she ignored him and gently stroked his cock with her hand.

"You won't," was all she said.

* * *

Satisfied that Lyra would be sleeping or entertaining Roslin Tully and the lady of the holdfast, Jaime dressed and left to retrieve his men. Having arrived at the Golden Tooth during the night, Jaime and his men planned to go to the mines in the morning.

"Good morning, my lord," Ser Addam greeted Jaime upon his and the other men's arrival at the entrance to the mines.

Though the use of "my lord" was a good gesture, Jaime wished his childhood friend would drop the title and just call him "Jaime".

"Have any of the Stark men come out of the mines?"

"No, Lord Jaime," Addam hesitated, "however, we have received information that nearby villages were raided last night." He finished gravely.

Knowing that this meant there were likely back entrances to the mines that the Lannisters didn't know of, Jaime sighed in irritation. He wanted to get this business over with as soon as possible. House Lannister needed its main mine back for the winter, the men (and himself) were eager to go home and Jaime was afraid of Lyra involving herself. So far, he'd managed to keep his lady wife in the dark as to what was actually going on, but that was only because a handful of knights were to be directly involved. The rest of the men were behind them, but only as stand-by in case of an actual battle occurring.

"Right," Jaime resigned— _We have no choice but to negotiate_. "Organize a parlay with the leading Stark man," he ordered Ser Addam. However, the knight hesitated.

"My lord," Ser Addam began, "We caught a man in the night who claims to have helped head the taking of the Golden Tooth."

"Why was I not told of this immediately?!" Jaime was baffled at Addam's incompetence.

"We weren't sure if it's actually—"

"Take me to him," Jaime cut him off mid-sentence. Addam and the soldiers fell silent before taking their leige lord to the holding tent.

* * *

Roslin Tully and Lyra Stark may enjoy one another's company greatly, but both women couldn't be different from the other.

Lyra: Headstrong, stubborn, learned as a man, arrogant, a warrior.

Roslin: Humble, timid, artistic, affectionate, a mother.

However, both women managed to find common ground as they forced themselves to spend time with each other out of courtesy. Now, they sincerely enjoyed the company of the other.

Roslin was teaching Lyra how to engage with the common people in a kind, humble manner; and Lyra was teaching Roslin to be assertive and adventerous. All of which led to their current placement in a nearby village.

The village the miners lived in was nicer than the rest, likely due to better pay as they mined Lannister gold. However, there was still evidence of shabbiness due to the closing of the mines and the war. As in the Riverlands, the smallfolk were nothing but kind, but Lyra still carried Night's Queen; whether this was due to anxiety or instinctual fear of being attacked while pregnant, she did not know. _Does the reason really matter?_ Lyra knew that she could take down all of her guards should they suddenly become her enemies.

 _Better safe than sorry_. Remembering that phrase made Lyra suddenly sad. It was what Oberyn had told her mother when a young Lyra was learning swordplay for self-defense. _I failed you Oberyn_ … _Just as I failed Mother and Father._ When hard times came after her father's death, Lyra and her mother fled their rightful seat and home. When Robb rebelled, Lyra ran from confrontation and did as her uncles wanted. When Winterfell was finally in Lyra's grasp, she fled to the Lannsisters, believing she could never hold the seat. When Oberyn's head was crushed like a melon, Lyra didn't hold strong for her mother and Ellaria; she fled then too.

 _How dare I call myself a warrior when I'm really such a coward?_

A passing conversation broke Lyra's thoughts: "I heard the Lannisters caught one of the Stark men last night."

Initially freezing from shock, Lyra re-gained herself. Following the two chattering men, she grabbed one.

"The Lannisters caught who last night?!" She didn't know that she was holding the low-born man by his collar until he gasped out his answer.

"One of the Stark men m'lady," he chocked out. "The Lannisters are holding him in a tent near the mines."

* * *

To say that Jaime was shocked would be an understatement. The person standing before him in manacles wasn't the head-man, she was the head-woman; and one of the late King Robb's personal guards. And she was harder to interrogate than the men would have been.

 _Out of my way!_ Jaime heard a female voice in the distance.

 _As Lady Lannister, I command you to let me through!_

 _Gods no…_ How did Lyra find out? _The village!_ Jaime felt stupid as he realized that he hadn't thought to keep Lyra from the village of miners.

Bursting through the tent, and shoving Addam out of her way, Lyra came face-to-face with a lady she had not seen in years.

"Dacey!" Lyra gasped. "Dacey Mormont? You're alive?!"

* * *

"What else are you keeping from me?!" Lyra practically shouted at Jaime in the large tent meant for councils. Dacey Mormont was alive and her father's old bannermen were held up in the mines, yet Jaime didn't think this information was pertinent.

Jaime had enough of Lyra trying to push him around and force herself into situations she didn't belong in. "As your _lord husband_ it is my prerogative to withhold whatever information from you I wish," he snapped at her.

Immediately, Jaime regretted his words. He saw Lyra's eyes fill with tears.

"And I suppose your's and Cersei's _disgusting_ liason would fall into that category?!" She spoke lowly, but harshly. Her words stung as much as his.

Jaime fell silent. They stared each other down. Neither would yield.

Seeing as they were at an en passé, Lyra breathed deeply from her nostrils before storming out without a word. Bronn offered to escort her back to the holdfast, but Lyra roughly shoved him. "I can take care of myself! Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm some helpless _Nancey_!"

After some time, and decompression from their row, Jaime allowed his knights and captains in. Dacey Mormont and the rest of the Stark men refused to believe that Jon and Sansa had re-taken the North.

 _Why should I believe some oathbreaker?!_

It was Riverrun all over again.

They bloody well couldn't storm the mines, the Starks had the entrance rigged to trap them if they did; nor could they blow the mines up, the Lannisters needed the gold and the miners couldn't lose their profession. The Golden Tooth wasn't just the main mine, it was also a strategic defensive point. If the mines were gone, the villages and the people would go with it, thus leaving the west open for an attack from the Riverlands. The problem seemed an impossible one to solve.

"Lord Lannister," a captain began; timidly. "Might I make a suggestion?"

At this point, Jaime was willing to listen to anything.

* * *

Lyra was so furious she refused to even let her handmaidens in to help her ready for the evening. Brushing her hair out, Lyra fumed at her lord husband.

 _He thinks he can bloody well keep whatever the fuck he wants from me?!_ Remembering how long he kept the truth about Cersei from her re-opened the wound.

"Bloody hell!" Lyra's scalp throbbed. She had been unconsciously taking her anger out on her hair. She wasn't thinking straight. She needed to calm down.

Opening her trunk, Lyra pulled out the Dream Wine and poured herself a little. Not enough to grow drowsy, but enough to calm her nerves.

Sitting for a spell, Meraxes jumped onto his lady's lap while she sipped. Looking around the room, Lyra saw her garb and sword on the bed. She'd managed to sneak her armor out from under Jaime's nose as well. Deciding against an idea to strong arm her way into negotiations, Lyra gently placed the wine and Meraxes on the ground before hiding everything under the bed. It felt childish, and she felt childish for having to do such a thing.

 _I may not be Lady Stark, but I still have a duty to my father's people._ Thinking, Lyra came up with a way to help.

Not long after Lyra slipped into her nightdress did Jaime walk into their chambers. The sun was going down so the men were likely coming back from the mines and the war council.

They briefly exchanged looks before Jaime sat on the bed to take his boots off. Neither would begin speaking to the other. Lyra climbed into bed and lay with her back turned to him. Feeling the bed dip from his weight, she turned over to glare at him. Jaime returned her glare.

"I'm not happy with what you've done," she almost sneered, slightly embarrassed at the horrible look she must have on her face.

"I didn't expect you to be."

"Why did you do it?!" her voice raised slightly.

"You're too rash when it comes to fighting and you're brainless when it comes to your father's family," he retorted, harshly.

She slapped him then, hard. The look in his eyes told her that he wanted to strike her back. Lyra refused to back down and instead, held her husband's gaze.

Shaking his head, angry, Jaime almost snarled, "Why do you resist every effort I make to save you from this?" Jaime had been married to Lyra for some time and this aspect to her personality baffled him still. Why did she insist on involving herself in violence? Most ladies wouldn't even want to be within ten kilometers of a battle.

"Why do you insist that I can't take care of myself?" She shot back.

"Because you can't!" Jaime raised his voice. "You think you can take on anyone anywhere, Lyra, but you can't! You're a lady, not a knight."

After that it was on.

Lyra suddenly and without warning, jumped onto Jaime's chest and dug her knees in, pinning him. She could tell that he was struggling to breathe as she pushed all of her weight onto him. "I bet I could take you on…and only with a dagger."

Refusing to be dominated, Jaime mustered his strength and threw her off of him. Careful not to hurt his lady wife or the life growing inside her, he caged her on the bed with his body. "Don't think for one moment," he stopped her shoulders when she tried to push him off, "that because I've lost my sword had, I wouldn't be able to best you." He finished with a harsh whisper in her ear before nipping at her lobe.

Surprised at herself, Lyra felt arousal begin to heat her body, which was intensified when Jaime passionately kissed her. Feeling his arms relent some around her body, she pulled him closer to herself and deepend their rough kiss. She was so angry, yet she felt so…she couldn't even describe it: she was so angry and so aroused by their aggression. Jaime continued his assault with his mouth on her body, trailing kisses down to Lyra's teets she felt him suck on her skin, which slightly hurt, but was not unpleasant. Feeling bold, she let her nails scratch his chest and back, leaving marks on him as he was doing with her, while they removed each other's clothes.

Without warning, Jaime pushed himself up to the hilt into Lyra's core, eliciting a cry of pain and pleasure from her lovely lips. As she became more slick, her cries were replaced with screams of pleasure.

Not wanting to be dominated, at least not without a fight, Lyra tried to push Jaime off and top him; instead, he held her down and continued his deep thrusts into her body.

"No," he ground out. In response, she began to claw at him, making him moan. Pinning her hands to her sides, he took one sensitive pink nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, flicking it with his tongue. Lyra couldn't help the arch of her back or the cry she let out when her inner muscles contracted around Jaime.

Finishing and calming himself, Jaime realized he'd taken things too far earlier. Softening his gaze, he wiped the dried tears from Lyra's cheeks. He hated the look of fear that briefly had crossed Lyra's face. Kissing her, he leaned his forehead against hers; "I'd never lay a hand on you Lyra," he whispered, almost apologetically. "No matter what you do, I will never strike you." He'd seen Robert strike his sister many times, and had seen other noblewomen with obvious evidence of abuse. Jaime never wanted to be one of those men.

Feeling ashamed, as well, Lyra apologized; "I'm sorry I hit you, I shouldn't have done such a terrible thing." _Though whatever_ _ **that**_ _was, I'd like to experience it again_ —their lovemaking became rather violent and angry, but there was something about it that she greatly enjoyed.

Getting up, Lyra didn't bother with the nightdress; instead, she got the wine out. Carefully, she poured herself a glass and Jaime some Dream Wine.

* * *

Lyra carefully measured her breaths to be low and deep as if she were asleep until she was certain that Jaime was asleep as well. She even nudged him slightly to make sure that he was indeed asleep. When he didn't move and she only saw his chest slowly rise and fall, she then slipped out of bed.

Though she and Jaime had been given relatively isolated rooms in the holdfast, Lyra still opened the door quietly. The guards were changing, so there was nobody around.

Looking back once more, she whispered; "Forgive me Jaime." She knew that he would be furious when he found out, but she couldn't sit and do nothing, and she was tired of running away from the mess she had helped create in the North by refusing Robb's hand. Robb's men…they needed to know that there was now a Stark in Winterfell and she knew that they wouldn't believe Jaime.

* * *

Walking towards the tent where she knew the men would be carousing, Lyra was thankful for Roland. The lad had returned from the Riverland, successful, that evening and agreed to help her hide her armor. She could tell that the young man was suspicious, but he was grateful to her for allowing him the opportunity to stand out among the other soldiers. So he could rest easier, Lyra lied and told the newly promoted captain that she wanted him to hide her armor because she didn't feel safe without it— _Not necessarily a lie._

Having found her armor earlier, Lyra carried it to her hiding spot while she waited in her light garb for her target.

Finally spotting the man after a while of hiding behind a tree, Lyra pulled out her dagger and snuck up behind him. The noise of her footsteps drowned by the loudness of the man pissing in the bushes.

 _Seven Hells, sounds like a horse pissing._

To busy putting his cock away in his pants, Bronn didn't notice Lady Lannister approach him until there was a dagger at his throat.

"Bronn," Lyra whispered, "It's me, don't make a noise."

Walking him with her, dagger still at his throat, they went to the mines. Eventually out of earshot, Lyra sheathed the dagger to explain.

"Seven Hells! If I'd had a weapon on _me_!" Bronn sputtered. "I could have accidentally killed you and then my head would have actually been on a spike!"

Lyra felt bad about doing what she did to Bronn, but it was necessary. She needed to get him alone and convince him to go with her quietly without anyone noticing. She was hoping that she would solve the issue with the mines by sunrise.

"A thousand apologies to the _cutthroat sellsword_ ," she mocked him, getting her armor and putting it on. She needed him to take her to Dacey. Explaining the situation and her plan, Lyra waited for Bronn's answer.

"You're going to do this with or without me aren't you?" Bronn finally said. After being given an affirmative, he agreed to take her to Dacey, but he would only do that.

* * *

 _I suppose that at least they haven't raped me…yet_ —Dacey recalled her mother's corpse being violated after her king was murdered in cold blood. The thought didn't make her sad, it just made her angry; and it was that anger that had kept her going up until the Karstark betrayed her and her men. That anger was then renewed when she got captured by the Lannisters and saw that Lady Lyra was among them. Now she was both angry _and_ confused.

 _Robb said that the Lannisters forced Lady Lyra to marry the Kingslayer…_ True, Lady Lyra had seemed angry, but only at the fact that she was not aware of the Starks' presence in the mines.

Hearing a commotion outside, Dacey straightened herself up so she could listen better. Hearing a body thud, her heart began to race; had the traitor Karstark come back to finish her off since the Lannisters wouldn't.

Suddenly, a scraggly looking man and Lady Lyra barged into the tent. Needless to say, Dacey nearly jumped out of her skin from relief and shock. What shocked Dacey Mormont even more though was when Lady Lyra suddenly cut her bonds.

Covering Dacey's mouth, Lyra told her: "We aren't here to hurt you Dacey, we just need to know what's going on. We're here to help you go home."

After being assured that Lyra was speaking truth of Sansa and Jon and helping her get back North, Dacey realized that the rumors were true: the Lone Wolf came to help House Stark in its darkest hour and restored Winterfell to the rightful house. She was also releieved to hear that her younger siblings were safe on Bear Island. Only after some water did Dacey relay her tale to Lyra; she told the other woman of how she escaped the Red Wedding with a handful of men, how they decided to hole up in the mines and block Lannister gold, and of how a Karstark had sowed discord among her men.

"I thought the Karstarks left King Robb's army?" was Lady Lyra's only question.

"They did, but some stayed because they believed in the cause…once Rickard Karstark's cousin heard of the Boltons ruling the North and of _his_ cousin's co-operation, during the Battle of the Bastards, he no longer wished to return to the North. Instead, he planned to sit in the mines and do nothing but raid the smallfolk. Spiteful prick," Dacey spat.

Taking a deep breath and glancing at Bronn, who looked more confident at the fact that half of the men would likely surrender once they saw Dacey and a promise to return home, Lyra asked the question: "I want to get you back home Dacey, _and_ your men. Will you help me punish the mad man and get this mess taken care of?"

* * *

 **AN: So I know that Lyra and Jaime got a little aggressive with each other, and that may rub some of you the wrong way, but consider this; Lyra and Jaime both have volatile tempers and are prone to using force. It felt in character and almost necessary for them to have a rather nasty row with each other, and I actually wanted to do it earlier in their marriage.**

 **Any who, I'm sorry that I did not deliver on a showdown, but it felt like it would be too much to put all of it in one chapter while I was writing it.**

 **I promise to deliver next time, which should be rather soon since school is almost over for the semester.**

 **Also, I promise that Jaime and Lyra's relationship will not turn toxic, or abusive.**

 **As always, constructive criticism is welcome ^.^**


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